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PRACTICAL  INSTRUCTIONS 

FOR 

PRIVATE  THEATRICALS 

By  W.  D.  EMERSON. 

Author  of  "AlCountry  Romance,"  "The  Unknown  Rival."  "Hum- 
ble Pie,"  etc. 

Price,  25  cents. 

Here  is  a  practical  hand-book,  describing  in  detail  all  the  ac- 
cessories, properties,  scenes  and  apparatus  necessary  for  an  ama- 
teur production.  In  addition  to  the  descriptions  in  words,  every- 
thing is  clearly  shown  in  the  numerous  pictures,  more  than  one- 
hundred  being  inserted  in  the  book.  No  such  useful  book  has 
ever  been  offered  to  the  amateur  players  of  any  country. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I.    Introductory  Remarks. 

Chapter  II.  Stage,  How  to  Make,  etc.  m  drawing-rooms 
or  parlors,  with  sliding  or  hinged  doors.  In  a  single  large  room. 
The  Curtain;  how  to  attach  it,  and  raise  it,  etc. 

Chapter  III.  Arrangement  of  Scenery.  How  to  hang  it; 
Drapery,  tormentors,  wings,  borders,  drops. 

Chapter  IV.  Box  Scenes.  Center  door  pieces,  plain  wings, 
door  wings,  return  pieces,  etc. 

Chapter  V.  How  to  Light  the  Stage.  Oil,  gas  and  electric 
lights.  Footlights,  Sidelights,  Reflectors.  How  to  darken  the 
stage,  etc. 

Chapter  VI.  Stage  Effects.  Wind,  Rain,  Thunder,  Break- 
ing Glass,  Falling  Buildings,  Snow,  Water,  Waves,  Cascades, 
Passing  Trains,  Lightning,  Chimes,  Sound  of  Horses'  Hoofs,  Shots. 

Chapter  VII.    Scene  Painting. 

Chapter  VTII.    A  Word  to  the  Property  Man. 

Chapter  IX.    To  the  Stage  Manager. 

Chapter  X.    The  Business  Manager. 


Address  Orders  to 

THE  DRAMATIC  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

CHICAGO. 


FOUL    PLAY. 


%  grama, 

IN    FOUR    ACTS. 


By  DION  BOUCICAULT  and  CHAELES  KEADE, 

Authors  of  '* Arrah-na-Pogue,"    "It  is   Never   too   Late   to  Mend,"    "London   by 
Night"  etc.,  etc. 


AS  FIRST  PRODUCED  AT  THE  HOLBORN  THEATRE,  LONDON,  UNDER 

THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  MISS  FANNY  JOSEPHS, 

THURSDAY,  MAY  28,  1868. 


TO  WHICH  la  ADDED 


A    DESCRIPTION    OP    THE     COSTUMES — CAST     OF     THE     CHARACTERS — EN- 
TRANCES   AND    EXITS — RELATIVE    POSITIONS    OF    THE    PER- 
FORMERS  ON    THE    STAGE,    AND    THE    WHOLE 
OP     THE      STAGE     BUSINESS. 


CHICAGO: 
THE  DEAMATIC  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS. 

Holborn  Theatre,  London, 
May  28,  1868. 

Sir  Edward  Rolleston  (Character,  Old  Man) Mr.  Bellaib. 

Old  Wardlaw  (Old  Man) Mr.  McIntybe. 

Robert  Tenfold  (Leading) Mr.  E.  Pbioe. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  (Leading  Juvenile  Comedy) Mr.  G.  Neville. 

Michael  Penfold  (Old  Man) Mr.  Parselle. 

Joe  Wylie  (Low  Comedy) Mr.  Jos.  Irving. 

Burtenshaw  (Utility) Mr.  Westland. 

Hawkins  (Character  Comedy) Mr.  Moreland. 

Atkina  (Utility) Mr.  Arthur. 

Messenger  (Utility) Mr.  Harbison. 

Helen  Rolleston  (Leading  Comedy) Miss  Henrade. 

Nancy  Rouse  (Chambermaid) .: Miss  Fanny  Josephs. 


TIME  OF  PLAYING— TWO  HOURS  AND  TWENTY  MINUTES. 
Note. — Act  I.,  thirty  minutes ;  Act  II.,  twenty-five  minutes ;  Act  III.,  fifty 
minutes ;  Act  IV.,  twenty  minutes. 


SCENERY. 

ACT  I. — Scene.  An  Office  in  three  grooves. 
Backing. 


|  Door.  | 

ABA  B        A 

*  Chairs.  *.  Chair. 

C  □ 

Table,  chairs  b.  and  l. 

Fireplace.  ] 
*  Chair. 


Backing  to  D.  in  f.  is  a  wall ;  a  railing  before  it,  enclosing  a  desk  and  seat ;  wall 
is  light  grained  wood  panelling ;  fireplace  l.  1  e.  set ;  map  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  l. 
2  k.  on  set ;  maps  elsewhere  ;  row  of  clothes-pegs  it.  2  e.  ;  AAA,  black  japanned 
boxes  with  white  letters— one  "  Mercantile  Shipping  Acts,  1840-60,"  another  "  Poli- 
cies of  Insurance,"  "  Miranda,"  etc. ;  B  B  are  stands  with  full-rigged  models  of 
ships,  one  l.  marked  "  Shannon,"  the  other,  b.,  "Proserpine;"  C  a  copying  press 
on  stand  ;  table  L.,  covered  with  papers,  books,  writing  materials ;  chairs  at  table 
and  b.  ;  umbrella  stand  l.  tj.  e.  corner ;  brass  rod  and  red  curtain  to  the  glass  part 
of  d.  in  f.  ;  carpet  down. 


SCENERY. 
ACT  II. — Scene  i.  Island  in  six 


unLr 

URL  3 


grooves.  ^U^lOg 


ii      *  Trees. 
U  ank. 


The  two  upper  entrances  have  canvas  down  for  ocean,  fading  off  at  the  horizon 
into  the  sky-line  ;  L.  side,  set  canvas ;  A  represents  the  island  running  out  a  spur 
of  land  into  the  sea ;  all  the  wings  trees  ;  borders  and  sinks  in  the  two  upper  en- 
trances, sky  ;  in  other  entrances  trees  and  foliage ;  B,  the  sun,  very  full,  transpar- 
ent, to  let  light  behind  through ;  it  is  setting  ;  clouds  are  orange ;  all  the  whites  in 
the  colors  are  yellow -tinted,  very  rich  ;  purple  shadings  to  trees ;  set  trees  in  profile, 
b.  c,  in  fourth  groove ;  a  bank,  with  rocks,  etc.,  runs  along  this  groove  to  mask 
edge  of  canvas  water ;  canvas  down  in  front,  of  a  sandy  color,  contrasting  with  the 
blue  of  the  water,  and  continuing  the  set  island  up  l.  side  ;  C,  piece  of  sail  cloth 
down,  3  by  4  feet,  for  table  cloth,  set  with  shells  for  plates ;  D,  hut  made  of  bark, 
sail  cloth  and  a  blanket  or  t  wo ;  doorway  open  ;  E,  a  yawl,  with  a  mast  stepped  in  the 
fore-thwart,  and  boom ;  no  sail ;  not  practicable ;  name  on  the  stern, "  Proserpine." 

Scene  ii.— Exterior  of  country  house  in  second  cut  of  first  grooves ;  sunlight; 
garden  k.;  windows  with  green  blinds ;  bell-pull  to  door,  bell  to  ring  ;  v.  in  f.  prac. 

Scene  in.— Tropical  forest,  in  first  cut  of  first  grooves;  sunset. 

Scene  rv. — Same  as  Scene  I.,  Act  II. ;  boat  l.  3  e.  is  removed;  another  boat,  to 
carry  eight  men,  to  work  to  r.  c.  from  it.,  i  e.  ;  the  sun  in  f.  is  the  moon ;  gas  is 
down  to  further  the  night  effect. 

ACT  HI. — Scene  i.  Library  in  country  house,  in  five  grooves. 


SCEXERY. 


"Walls  of  dark  oak  panelling,  cornices  and  carvings  rather  heavy  :  portraits  faded 
and  browned,  l.  and  b.,  of  men  and  women  of  George  III.  and  IV.'s  time,  in  plain 
dress ;  shelves  of  books  painted ;  bookcase,  black  walnut,  carved,  red  curtains  to 
glass  doors ;  l.  4  E.,  an  open  window,  opening  on  a  supposed  balcony,  with  exit 
from  it  •  window  B.  4  e.,  not  practicable ;  d.  b.  1  E.  practicable ;  two  vasea  and 
clock  over  fireplace  l.1e.;  carpet  down  ;  red  curtains  to  l.  v.  e.  window. 

Scene  ii.— Exterior  of  houses  in  London,  in  first  groove ;  two  houses  on  the 
stage ;  the  b.  one  has  a  practicable  d.  ;  l.  one  is  very  ruinous ;  windows  broken,  etc. 
Scene  hi. — Interior  of  two  houses,  in  three  grooves. 
|  Window.  | I  Window.  | 3 


Table,  chair  b. 


Bed  and  stool. 


Fireplace. 


Set  partition. 


Closed  in  a.  and  l.  :  n.  room  is  neatly  arranged,  small  carpet  down,  table,  chair; 
a  few  flowers  in  pots  on  window  sill ;  l.  room  is  very  dtlapidated ;  view  through  both 
windows  in  f.  is  of  London  housetops  by  sunset ;  fireplace  in  c.  set  is  common  to 
both  rooms ;  bricks  arranged  to  fall  out.    (See  Play  at  this  scene.) 

Scene  rv.— Interior  in  first  grooves ;  d.  in  f.  ;  shelves  of  books  painted  b.  side 
on  F. 

Scene  v.— Cellar  in  three  grooves. 

3 


Steps. 


AAA 


|D.  | 


Stone  walls,  very  dark  ;  b.  2  e.,  steps  leading  up  from  below  stage-level ;  l.  2  e. 
closed  in,  wall  around  steps  leading  down  to  d.  in  set  in  second  groove,  to  which 
three  or  four  steps  lead  up  from  stage  level ;  A  A  A,  boxes,  plain  pine,  bound  with 
tape  of  iron  color  at  the  ends,  2  by  3  by  5  feet,  not  to  be  moved  before  audience ; 
one  at  c  to  be  sat  upon. 

ACT  IV.— Scene.  Same  as  Scene  I.,  Act  III.  Sofa  put  up  l.,  and  another  table 
placed  l.  front. 


COSTUME  IS  {English,  present  day.) 

Robebt  Penfold.— Act  II. :  White  shirt,  straw  hat,  black  pants  tricked  into  high 
black  boots,  belt ;  hair  and  beard  long ;  a  jacket  for  him.  Scene  III. :  Same, 
only  beard  and  hair  longer,  face  slightly  less  brown,  jacket  on,  cane.  Act  IV. : 
Black  coat,  beard  and  hair  long,  but  trimmed  ;  light  hat,  pants  and  vest. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  (aged  25).—  Act  I.  ■  Dark  vest,  light  pants,  with  dark  gray  stripe 
down  seam,  black  velvet  coat,  light  hair  and  small  moustache.  Act  II.  : 
Brown  velvet  dressing  gown,  with  blue  cord  and  tassel,  light  pants,  smoking 
cap  ;  face  pale.  Act  111. :  White  vest,  gray  pants,  black  coat.  Act  IV. :  Color 
on  face  to  come  off  and  leave  it  very  pale  ;  same  dress  as  last. 

Joe  Wylie  (aged  30).— Sailor  ;  long  red  wig  and  beard  around  face.  Acts  I.  and  II. : 
Dark  blue  vest,  jacket  and  trousers,  brass  buttons,  black  glazed  hat.  Act  III. : 
Over  his  dress,  high  hat,  very  long-skirted  dark  coat,  long,  black  wig  and 
beard.    Scenes  III.,  IV.,  V.,  same  as  first  dress.    Act  IV. :  Same  as  first  dress. 

Bra  E.  Rolleston  (aged  50). — White  hair  and  gray  moustache.  Act  I. :  Light 
brown  overcoat  over  black  coat,  white  vest,  light  pants.  Act  II.,  Scene  IV. : 
Summer  East  India  dress,  straw  hat,  white  vest,  coat  and  trousers,  low-cut 
shoes.  Act  III.,  Scene  I. :  White  vest,  black  suit.  Act  IV. :  White  vest,  black 
coat,  gray  pants. 

Wardlaw  (aged  50).—  Act  I. :  Black  coat  and  vest,  gray  pants,  white  wig,  gray  side 
whiskers,  eye-glass  to  black  ribbon.  Act  II.,  Scene  II. :  Light  pants,  brown 
overcoat  over  black  coat,  black  hat,  umbrella.  Act  HI. :  Same  as  last,  with- 
out overcoat.    Act  IV. :  Gray  pants,  black  vest  and  black  frock  coat. 

Michael  Penfold  (aged  55.) — White  wig,  black  suit,  spectacles. 

Burtenshaw.— Hat,  dark  suit,  light  overcoat. 

Hawkins.— Close  shaven,  short-hair  black  wig,  a  little  bald  on  top,  black  suit,  hat, 
black  watch  guard,  note-book  with  pencil ;  speaks  quickly  but  clearly  and 
emphatically. 

Atkins.  —Black  suit. 

Messenger.— Black  suit. 

Sailors.— White  suits,  trimmed  with  blue,  straw  hats  with  blue  ribbon. 

Servant. — Black  suit. 

Helen  Rolleston. — Act  II. :  Hair  long  and  down,  white  body  without  sleeves, 
blue  skirt  over  white  petticoat,  white  stockings,  canvas  shoes.  Act  III. : 
Walking  dress,  hair  in  the  fashion.    Change  of  dress  hereafter,  at  pleasure. 

Nancy. — Act  I. :  Straw  bonnet,  dark  dress,  apron.  Act  II.,  Scene  II. :  Brown  dress, 
black  patent  leather  belt  with  clasp,  white  apron,  cap.  Act  HI.,  Scene  II.  ; 
Red  dress,  black  apron,  lace  collar  and  white  cuffs,  hair  plain. 


PROPERTIES  (See  Scenery.) 

Ad  I.  :  Papers  on  table,  posters  and  placards  of  "  ships  to  sail "  on  wall,  as,  "  Direct 

for  Melbourne — the  A  1  fast  sailing  clipper  ship , ,  to  sail ,"  etc. ; 

bag  and  paper  for  Messenger  ;  bell  on  table  to  ring  ;  quill  for  Michael  be- 
hind his  ear.  Act  II.  :  Shells  for  plates:  romb  for  Helen;  articles  of  dress 
and  bed  in  r.  2  e.  hut.  Scent  11.:  Bell  to  ring;  umbrella  for  Wardlaw; 
letter  for  same.  Scene  III. :  Knotted  stick  for  Robert.  Scene  IV. :  Oars  for 
boat,  boat  hook ;  watch  and  chain  in  hut  r.  2  e.  :  fire  burning  r.  side,  with 
one  stick  to  keep  alight  while  carried  about ;  Bible  in  hut,  small.  Act  III., 
5 


EXPLANATION    OF    STAGE    DIRECTIONS. 

/Scene  I. :  Books  and  papers  on  table ;  ornaments  on  fireplace  lIe.;  letter  for 
Hawkins  ;  bell  on  r.  table,  to  ring.  Scent  111. ;  See  to  bricks  being  ready  to 
fall  out  of  chimney-place ;  roll  of  bank  bills ;  candle  to  burn ;  sewing  for 
Nancy;  key  for  Wylie ;  pair  of  handcuffs  tor  Hawkins.  Scene  IV.:  Chair. 
Scene  V. :  Boxes ;  two  lanterns  to  burn,  one  with  slide. 


EXPLANATION  OF  THE  STAGE  DIRECTIONS. 
The  Actor  is  supposed  to  face  the  Audience. 


s.3x. 


/ 


SCENE. 


B.  2  x. 

/ 


/ 


V 


l.  3  x. 


\ 


\ 


L.5t 


I..  1  X. 


AUDIENCE. 


b  Left. 

l.  o.  Left  Centre. 

l.  1  x.  Left  First  Entrance. 

l.  2  x.  Left  Second  Entrance. 

l.  3  x.  Left  Third  Entrance. 

l.  v.  e.  Left  Upper  Entrance 

(wherever  this  Scene  may  be.) 

D.  l.  c.  Door  Left  Centre. 


c.  Centre. 

b.  Eight. 

b.  1  e.  Bight  First  Entrance. 

r.  2  e.  Bight  Second  Entrance. 

R.  3  e.  Bight  Third  Entrance. 

r.  v.  e.  Eight  Upper  Entrance. 

v.  r.  c.  Door  Bight  Centre. 


FOUL   PLAY. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE. — Office  in  three  grooves.     Music.     Arthur  Wardlaw  discovered 
seated,  writing  at  table,  h.  c,  facing  r.,  side  to  audience. 

Enter  Atkins,  d.  in  f. 

Arthur.  Well,  what  news  1 

Atkins.  The  packet  has  not  yet  been  sent  on.  Shares  are  going 
down,  I  hear,  sir. 

Arthur  {aside).  And  I  must  have  ten  thousand  at  any  price  within 
the  fortnight,  {writing,  Atkins  goes  up.) 

Enter  d.  in  f.,  Messenger,  bag  slung  round  him  by  its  strap,  paper  in  his 

hand. 

Messenger  (reads  from  paper).  "  Simpson  &  Son  gone  !  Bank  of 
England  deliberate  on  raising  rale  of  discount !  Merton  &  Wade  gone  ! 
Selling-out  movement  in  consols."  [Exit  d.  in  f. 

Atkins.  You  hear,  sir  1     What  is  to  be  done,  sir  1 

Arthur.  Nothing.  (Atkins  goes  up  c.)  Nothing.  (Atkins  bows  and 
exit  2>.  in  f.)  Ruin  !  (rises) — ruin  !  and  worse  than  ruin  !  exposure,  (c.) 
Oh,  if  I  could  but  tide  this  over  for  one  short  month — but  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  conceal  from  my  father  my  real  state  longer,  (to  table 
agnm)  It  must  come  out — this  tissue — this  system  of  fraud  and  deceit ! 
The  air  is  full  of  failures — how  can  1  hope  a  better  fate,  (writing  mechan- 
ically.) 

Atkins  enters  d.  in  f. 

Arthur.  Why  do  you  disturb  me  1 

Atkins.  Mr.  Burtenshaw,  sir. 

Arthur.  1  will  see  no  one  ! 

(Voice  of  Burtenshaw  at  back  by  d.  in  f.,  appealingly.)  Do  see  me, 
Mr.  Wardlaw. 

Atkins.  What  am  I  to  do.  sir? 

Arthur.  Show  him  in  !  (Atkins  goes  to  d.  in  f.  and  ushers  in  Burten- 
shaw, who  boxes  with  hat  in  hand.     Atkins  remains  up  R.) 

Arthur.  What  does  this  mean,  sir. 

Burt,  (c.)  Oh,  sir,  have  you  heard  any  news  of  your  ship  1 

Arthur.  The  Proserpin<>  1  It  seems  that  she  is  lost. 

Burt.  Only  "  seems,"  sir,  I  hope  1  Excuse  my  emotion — it  is  the 
thought  of  my  young  wife  and  family  that  makes  me   so  anxious.     I 


8  FOUL  PLAT. 

made  the  bonds  of  assurance  for  seventy  thousand  pounds  on  your  ship, 
all  my  fortune,  sir,  is  in  her. 

Akthur  (coldly).  I  have  pressing  need,  myself,  of  a  large  sum. 

Bokt.  If  I  could  be  given  a  little  time,  I  could  meet  it  better. 

Arthur  (coldly).  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that  1 

Burt.  Nothing  (with  growing  emoiion)  I  took  the  risk,  sir,  in  the  way 
of  business,  and  as  a  man  of  business  I  will  meet  its  result.  It  is  only 
that  I  cannot  view  dispassionately  llie  chance  of  my  wife  and  children 
reduced  to  beggary.  Don't  be  alarmed,  sir,  (growing  emotion)  the  Bur- 
tenshaws,  father  and  son,  have  always  held  their  heads  above  suspicion. 
(tearfully)  Don't  be  alainod,  sir,  you  shall  be  paid  for  your  ship — 
though  my  poor  wife — and — and — children — (voice breaks.)  One  moment, 
sir  !  (to  Atkins.)  Would  you  kindly  give  me  a  glass  of  water  ?  (Atkins 
gives  him  tumbkr  from  r.  u.  e  ,  former)  Thank  you.  (drinks)  Don't  be 
afraid,  sir,  Burteushaw  will  meet  his  bond.  Good  morning,  sir  !  (bows  to 
Arthur,  who  nods,  and  ex.,  a.  in  p.,  followed  by  Atkixs.) 

Arthur.  He  is  one  of  the  cards — worn  out  by  my  fingering  as  I  win 
the  game. 

(  Voice  of  Nancy  at  back).  But  I  will  see  him  ! 

Enter  Nancy,  d.  in  v.,  struggling  with  Atkins. 

Nanct.  Do  yon  hear  me,  sir  1  "I  am  not  going  to  be  put  off  seeing  him  ! 
(sees  Arthur,  curtseys)  Oh,  Mr.  Arthur,  I  beg  pardon  for  coming  into  your 
workshop — I  mean  your  office,  like  this.  (Arthur  rises  and  goes  r.  c, 
Atkins  arranges  his  neck  cloth  and  exit  v.  in  f.)  Oh,  tell  me,  where  is  hel 
(falls  into  chair,  l.  c.) 

Arthur.  Don't  take  on  so,  Nancy.     The  ship  is  all  right. 

Nancy.  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so,  sir.  (rocking  herself  in  the  chair 
in  grief)  I  never  thought  I  should  care  so  much  for  the  good-for-nothing 
fellow.  Just  before  he  went  away,  he  came  around  bothering  me. 
"What  do  you  want?  "  says  I.  "  I  want  to  have  you,''  says  he.  "  What 
for  1  "  says  I.  "  What  I  have  been  spending  these  two  months  ashore 
for,"  says  he.  And  he  was  drunk  half  the  time ;  and  now  he's  gone 
away  in  the  Proserpine  to  bring  home  a  fortune  for  me.  What's  a  fortune 
to  me  unless  I  have  him  along  with  it  ?  (weeps.) 

Arthur.  Come,  come  !  I  can  feel  for  you  ;  I,  too,  have  a  sweetheart  on 
the  seas.  You  yourself  know  how  I  love  her  who  is  to  be  my  bride. 
Yes,  I  love  Miss  Rolleston !  I  shall  only  know  happiness  again  when  I 
see  her  safe  in  London,  (crosses  to  l.) 

Nancy.  Ah  !  it's  not  the  real  ladies  that  get  lost  at  sea — it's  only  the 
poor  common  sailors  and  such  like. 

Arthur  (looking  up  at  d.  im  f.).  My  father !  what  brings  him  here  at 
t*,is  Iiour  1 

Enter  d.  in  F.,  WARDLAW. 

Wardlaw.  Good  morning,  Arthur. 
Arthur.  Good  morning,  father. 
Ward.  I've  good  news  for  you. 
Arthur.  For  me  ?  It  can't  be  of  her. 

Ward.  A  telegram  from  Sir  Edward  Rolleston 

Arthur.  Australia"? 
Ward.  No  ;  the  ship  has  arrived. 

Nancy  (starts  hj>).  Oh,  has  he  come  home,  indeed?  (l.  c.) 
Ward,  (c,  to  Arthur).  He  will   be  in  Loudon  to-day.     What's  the 
meaning  of  this  girl  ? 


FOUL  PLAY.  9 

Arthur  (to  c).  It  is  Nancy  Rouse,  the  sweetheart  of  Joe  Wylie,  the 
male  of  the  Proserpine. 

Ward.  Poor  girl!  (whispers  to  Arthur.) 

Enter,  d.  in  v.,  Messenger,  as  before. 

Messenger  (reads  paper).  "  Bartley  Brothers  wound  up,  Maple  &  Cox, 
Liverpool,  gone,  Terry  &  Brown  suspended,  International  Credit  gone, 
Hopley  &  Timms,  sixty-eight  thousand,  gone  !  "  [Exit  d.  in  f. 

Nancy  (aside,  coming  front,  l  a).  Where  have  they  all  gone  to  1  (goes. 
up  l.  c.) 

Ward.  You  see,  Arthur,  how  right  we  were  to  steer  clear  of  all  these 
new-fangled  companies. 

Arthur.  Quite  right,  quite  right! 

Ward.  Our  books  are  all  regular  and  a  model  to  any  trading  firm. 

Atkins  (at  d.  in  f.).  Mr.  Wylie,  sir. 

Enters  a  few  steps  R.  c. 

Arthur.  Wylie ! 

Nancy.  Wylie  !     What,  Joe  1    Where  is  hel  (up  c.)  oh,  oh  ! 
Atkins.  He's  waiting  in  the  clerks'  room,  sir. 

Nancy.  Waiting  !  oh  get  out  of  the  way  !  (pushes  Atkins  up  r.,  and 
runs  out  d.  in  f.) 

Atkins.  Mr.  Wylie,  sir. 

Ushers  in  Joe  Wylie  and  Nancy  clinging  to  him. 

Arthur.  Let  him  be  shown  in  at  once. 

Wylie.  Good  day,  gentlemen.* 

Arthur.  So  you  have  got  back  again  1 

Wylie.  Never  had  a  narrower  squeak  for  it.  Me  and  four  of  my 
mates  are  all  that  is  left  of  the  good  ship  Proserpine.      (Music, piano.) 

Ward.  Lost  \ 

Wylie.  Foundered,  sir,  eighteen  hundred  miles  nor'west  of  Cape 
Horn. 

Arthur.  Where  is  the  gold  1  (exchanges  a  glance  tvilh  Wylie.) 

Wylie.  Gone  to  the  bottom,  every  ounce  of  it!  (points  downward.) 

Nancy  (embraces  Wylie,  snaps  her  fingers).  That  for  the  gold  !  all  that 
I  cared  for  has  sta3red  at  the  top  of  the  water. 

Wylie.  Oh,  Nancy,  come  here  !  (emhace,  they  go  to  r.  u.  corner,  where 
Wylie  pantomimes  the  shipwrak,  in  boat,  etc.,  Nancy  showing  pity.) 

Arthur  (to  Wardlaw).  Father.  I  would  beg  your  assistance  for  the 
moment. 

Ward.  Your  are  insured  to  the  full,  of  course. 

Arthur.  Yes,  but  Mr.  Burtenshaw  was  here  asking  a  delay,  I  fear  if 
I  was  to  push  the  underwriters,  it  would  create  a  panic  on  'change. 

Ward,  Hum  !  and  you  want  me  to  advance  you — (pauses.) 

Arthur.  If  you  will  advance  me  fifty  thousand,  it  will  give  me  time. 

Ward,  (takes  out  his  check  book,  seats  himstlf  at  table.)  You  will  give  me 
five  per  cent  1 

Arthur.  I  suppose  I  must. 

Ward,  (dates  and  signs  ehtck).  You  can  put  in  the  figures  yourself ; 

•ASBUM.  Nancy. 

Wylie.  "Wabdlaw.  Aiithuu, 

up  It.  C.  C.  L.  C. 


10  FOUL   PLAY. 

send  it  to  the   Bank  at  two  o'clock.     Then  come  to  meet  Sir  Edward 
Rolleston  at  the  station  at  half-past. 

Akthdr.  Do  not  fear,  father,  {rings  bell,  sees  Wabdlaw  off  d.  in  f.,  re- 
turns to  table,  writes.) 

Enter  Atkins,  d.  in  f. 

Abthub.  Take  this  to  the  Bank  of  England,  {gives  paper)  Call  a  hansom 
cab  to  be  at  the  door,  {exit  Atkins  d.  in  f.  Arthur  goes  to  Wylie.  up 
r.)  And  now,  Nancy,  if  you  are  done  with  Joe,  perhaps  you  will  hand 
him  over  to  me. 

Nancy.  Oh,  if  you  please,  sir,  he  was  only  telling  me 

Arthur.  He  can  tell  you  the  rest  over  the  tea-table. 

Nancy.  Oh,  I  see  !  you  are  wanting  me  to  go  1 

Wylie.  Yes,  I'll  come  and  take  tea  with  you. 

Nancy.  Don't  be  long,  Joe  ! 

Wylie.  Oh,  no,  Nance  !  oh,  no!  {sees  her  out  d.  in  f.) 

Arthur  {seizes  Wylie  by  left  arm  with  his  right  hand  and  drags  him  down 
c).  Well,  Joe,  what  news  1 

Wylie  {gloomily.)  I've  done  the  job  with  the  Proserpine. 

Arthur.  Go  on ! 

Wylie.  And  mark  me,  guv'nor,  for  all  the  gold  that  was  ever  digged 
out  of  the  mines,  or  ever  will  be,  I  wouldn't  do  it  ag'in. 

Arthur.  Curse  your  scruples  !  give  me  your  facts  ! 

Wylie.  Well,  the  copper  and  the  gold  were  lodged  in  White  &  Co.'s 
store  at  Hobartstowu. 

Arthur.  To  which  I  gave  you  a  duplicate  key 

Wylie.  All  right,  guv'nor.  I  let  myself  in  theie  and  shifted  the  gold 
in  the  fifty  boxes  for  copper  in  the  cases,  and  it  was  shipped  on  board 
the  Shannon,  while  the  copper  in  the  gold  boxps  was  put  in  the 
Proserpine.  I  followed  your  instructions  to  the  letter — and  precious 
hard  work  it  were. 

Arthur.  Never  mind  that  now.     Proceed. 

Wylie.  Well,  we  had  a  splendid  run.  We  were  about  eleven  days 
from  the  Horn  when  {hoarsely)  the  ship  sprang  a  leak !  and  in  six  hours 
after  that  she  began  to  settle  down  ! 

Arthur.   You  are  sure  that  no  one  had  any  suspicions  of  foul  play  ? 

Wylie.  No,  no  one  among  the  crew,  but  one  of  the  passengers  had — a 
certain  missionary  chap 

Arthur.  Great  Heaven  !  he  has  not  escaped  with  you  7 

Wylie  {hoarsely).  I  put  him  with  the  lady  passenger  and  four  lubbers 
in  the  starboard  cutter,  an  old  leaky  boat.  They'll  never  be  heard  on 
any  more,  {draws  his  sleeve  across  his  forehead.) 

Arthur^  Then  all  is  well,  and  I  have  the  fifty  cases  of  gold,  marked 
as  copper,  in  the  Shannon,  now  lying  at  Liverpool. 

Wylie.  All  right,  guv'nor,  I  heerd  as  she  was  in.  Me  and  my  mates 
was  picked  up  at  sea  and  brought  home.  A  half  a  million  !  That's  a 
tidy  sum,  sir. 

Arthur.  A  very  tidy  sum,  yes,  Joe.  But  your  two  thousand  pounds 
will  make  a  man  of  you.  {goes  l.) 

Wylie.  Then  let's  have  it  at  once!  {goes  to  table)  Quick!  I  don't  feel 
the  same  man  I  was. 

Akthur.  You  shall  have  it  at  once.  I  am  in  a  hurry  now,  as  I  have 
an  appointment  to  meet  my  intended,  just  come  home  from  abroad. 

Wylie.  Ah  !  the  poor  dying  girl  on  our  ship  was  coming  home,  too, 
to  meet  her  sweetheart !  where  is  she  now  "? 

Arthur.  Tush  !  there's  not  a  day  passes  that  ships  are  not  scuttled  on 


FOUL  PLAY.  11 

dry  land  !  and  they  go  down  with  a  precious  freight  and  many  lives  ! 
The  authors  of  the  scheme  escape,  as  we  have,  with  the  plunder. 

Wylie.  And  what  do  shore-folks  cali  that  ? 

Arthur.  Hem  !  a  commercial  crisis. 

Wylie.  That's  a  long  way  of  spelling  robbery  and  murder. 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  Atkins. 

Atkins.  Tlie  cab  is  waiting,  sir. 

Arthur  {nods).  All  right !  {to  Wylie)  Call  here  to-morrow  and  I  will 
settle  accounts  with  you.  {changes  his  coat,  takes  his  hat,  exit  d.  in  f.,  fol- 
lowed by  Atkins.) 

Wylie  {alone).  Well !  A  cold-blooded  son  of  an  oyster  he  is,  for  you  ! 
Going  off  to  see  his  sweetheart  witliout  e'er  thought  for  them  poor 
creatures  as  I  left  on  the  ocean  in  an  open  boat — six  lives  and  one  of 
them  a  woman's !  it's  cheap,  the  two  thousand  pounds  I  get  for  the  job  ! 
I  wonder  what  Nancy  would  say  if  she  knew  what  was  the  fortune  I  am 
bringing  her. 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  coming  down  to  Wylie,  c,  front,  Penfold. 

Penfold.  Sir  ! 

Wylie  {jumps  in  terror).  Eh  1 

Pen.  I  beg  pardon,  sir,  but  have  you  not  come  from  Hobartstown  1 

Wylie.  Yes. 

Pen.  I  have  a  son  out  there,  sir — he's  in  the  employment  of  White  & 
Co.     Perhaps  you  may  have  seen  him  1 

Wylie  {laughs).  Why,  they  have  thirty  clerks  in  their  employ. 

Pen.  But  none  like  my  boy  ;  if  ever  you  had  seen  him,  you  would 
say  so.     But  he  is  not  a  clerk — he  is  a  light  porter. 

Wylie.  Ah!  a  ticket-of-leave  manl 

Pen.  Yes,  sir.  {hangs  his  head.) 

Wylie.  All  right,  all  right. 

Pen.  His  name  is  Penfold,  Robert  Penfold. 

Wylie.  Penfold  !  The  name  seems  sort  of  familiar  to  me.  Let  me 
see  ;  Penfold  !  wasn't  that  the  name  of  the  young  master's  tutor  that  was 
lagged  for  forgery  some  fifteen  years  ago  1 

Pen.  Yes,  sir,  but  he  never  did  it!  Ah!  I  call  a  room  of  mine  at 
home  Hobartstown ;  1  read  all  the  books  I  meet  that  treat  of  the  place 
where  he  is,  I  buy  all  the  pictures  of  it 

Wylie  {aside.)  Poor  old  buffer  !  I  quite  feel  for  him!  {aloud)  I  dare- 
say I  have  seen  him  somewhere. 

Pen.  Yes,  sir.  Here  is  his  photograph,  {show  card)  How  many 
times  I  have  wept  over  it,  kissed  it,  and  blessed  the  invention  that 
brought  me  so  near  my  boy  ! 

Wylie  {card  in  hand).  I  have  seen  that  face  before. 

Pen.  {eagerly).  Yes,  sir. 

Wylie  {agitated,  aside).  Oh  !  I  know  now  !  It  is  the  missionary  chap, 
one  of  the  six  aboard  the  cutter !  {staggers  back  to  chair  by  table  L.  c, 
forcing  the  card  on  Penfold.) 

Pen.  {eagerly).  You  have  seen  him  ! 

Wylie.  No.no!  {alarmed.) 

Pen.  You  recognize  him  !  Oh,  tell  me 

Wylie.  No,  no,  I  tell  you! 

Enter,  d.  in  v.,  Atkins,  whering  in  Rolleston. 
Wylie.  What  should  I  know  about  your  son  1  {Music.) 


12  FOUL  PLAY. 

Rolles.  Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw  1 

Atkins.  Mr.  Arthur  has  gone  out,  sir.  Mr.  Wardlaw,  Senior,  is  in — 
would  you  like  to  see  him  1  (Rolleston  nods)  What  name,  if  you  please, 
sir? 

Rolles.  {comes  down  c.)  Sir  Edward  Rolleston. 

[Exit  Atkins,  d.  in  f.    Long  chord. 

Wtlie  {starts  up,  aside.)  Rolleston!   {crosses  at  back  to  K.  D.  corner.) 

Rolles.  (l.  c.  front).  Eh  1  did  you  speak? 

Wylie  {stammers).  Beg  pardon,  sir.  Your  name  seemed  familiar. 
{repulses  Penfold,  who  tries  to  speak  to  him,  up  R.  c). 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  Wardlaw. 

Wakd.  Welcome !  {shakes  hands  with  Rolleston)  My  old  friend,  Sir 
Edward.  A  thousand  welcomes  !  My  son  lias  gone  off  to  the  station  to 
meet  your how  disappointed  he  will  be  at  not  seeing  her. 

Rolles.  Her,  her? 

Ward.  Has  she  not  come  with  you  up  from  Liverpool  ? 

Rolles.  My  daughter,  do  you  mean  ?  I  expected  her  to  have  met  me 
on  my  arrival. 

Ward.  She  has  not  come  with  you  1  She  was  not  to  come  by  the 
Overland   route? 

Rolles.  That  intention  was  altered,  and  her  departure  took  place  be- 
fore mine.     She  sailed  in  the  Proserpine,  (l.  c.) 

Wylie  {groans).  Oh  !    {Music.) 

Ward,  (c,  aghast,  glances  at  Wylie,  who  hides  his  head).  The  Proser- 
pine? 

Rolles.  Why  do  you  look  so  wild? 

Ward,  {to  Wylie).  Speak,  speak  ! 

Rolles.  You  don't  answer  me! 

Ward.  That  man  was  mate  of  the  Proserpine. 

Wylie  {hoarsely).  That  ship  foundered — is  lost ! 

Rolles.  Great  Heavens  !  {falls  into  chair  L.  side  of  table)  Lost  ? 

Ward.  He  has  heard  the  worst.     Tell  him  all. 

Wylie.  Don't  go  to  blame  me.  She  wouldn't  come  into  the  long  boat 
with  us  that  were  saved,  but  she  stuck  to  the  missionary  chap.  (Rolles- 
ton comes  to  l.  c.)  I  kept  the  long  boat  in  the  track  of  ships,  but  we 
never  heerd  nothing  of  them 

Rolles.  Quick!  bring  me  the  chart.  (Wardlaw  brings  map  from  l. 
2.  E.  set  to  table,  upper  end)  Let  me  see  where  it  happened,  {hands  tremble 
and  he  bites  at  his  moustache.)  • 

Wylie  {points  to  map).  There,  sir. 

Rolles.  Are  there  no  islands  near  there  ? 

Wylie.  Not  a  speck  of  land  within  a  thousand  miles,  {pretended  relief  ) 
But,  sir,  she's  been  picked  up — she's  sure  to  have  been  picked  up. 

Rolles.  No  paltering,  fellow !  show  us  where  she  was  lost!  Not  n 
spot  of  land  laid  down,  {turns  away,  hiding  his  eyes  with  left  hand,  rtglit 
hand  on  map.) 

Enter,  v.  in  ?.,  Arthur,  very  lightly  and  joyfully. 

Arthur.  Ah,  Sir  Edward,  Sir  Edward !  what  is  the  matter  ?  (All 
turn  from  him)  Father,  you  turn  from  me  !     Where  is  Helen  ? 

Ward,  {to  Arthur).  Calm  yourself,  my  dear  boy,  prepare  for  a  terri- 
ble calamity. 

Arthur.  Calamity  !     Where  is  Helen,  that  she  is  not  here? 

Ward.  She  has — perished  ou  board  the  Proserpine  !  {general  emotion.) 

{Music  till  end,  tremolo.) 


FOVL  TLAY.  13 

Arthur.  The  Proserpine!  impossible.  She  was  to  come  by  the  Shan- 
non.    Speak,  speak,  Wylie!     Why  don't  you  deny  this  1 

Wtlie  {speaking  with  difficulty").  She  was  the  sick  girl — aboard  the 
cutter. 

Arthur.  Then  she  is  lost,  lost !  Ah,  if  she  has  perished,  it  is  all  my 
work!  {falls  in  ««««  0/  Wardlaw.  Penfold  crosses  up  for  tumbler  of 
water.) 

Ward.  Give  me  some  water  !  {strikes  bell.) 

Enter  Atkins,  d.  in  f. 

Send  for  a  doctor.  (Atkins  exit  d.  in  f.,  but  returns  instantly)  Give  me 
the  water. 

Atkins  and  Clerks  appear  at  d.  in  f.,  Nancy  enters  there. 

Stand  back,  give  him  air  ! 

Arthur.  Ah !  {tears  at  his  cravat)  I  stifle  !  away !  it  feels  like  the 
rope     {swoons.) 

♦Atkins.        *Clerk. 
*\Vylie.  *Nancy. 

♦Arthur. 
♦Penfold.  *Wardlaw.  *Rolleston. 

K.  C.  C.  L.  C. 

Atkins,  Clerk,  Tehfold,  frightened,  Nancy  surprised,  looks  at  Wylie, 
Wylie,  hanging  his  head  in  shame  and  horror.  Arthur  fainted  in 
arms  of  Wardlaw,  looking  doicn  in  his  face.  Rolleston  hanging  his 
head,  nearly  swooning.     Music. 

slow  curtain. 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I. — Island  in  six  grooves.     Gas  down  1.  and  r.  1  and  2  B. 
Enter,  l.  3  e.,  Helen,  to  r.  c. 

Helen  What  a  fright  I  must  look  to  be  sure.  I  have  the  breakfast 
ready,  and  now  for  my  toilet,  {goes  up  to  hut,  gets  comb,  and  goes  up  to  c, 
3  e.  line)  What  time  is  it  1  the  pan  is  nearly  on  the  horizon.  I  hope 
Hie  strong  wind  of  last  night  has  not  broken  any  of  my  favorite  flower- 
bushes. 

(  Voice  of  Robert  Tenfold  l.  2  e.).  Miss  Rolleston  ! 

Helen.  Ytou  can't  come  in.  {combing  her  hair)  Oh  how  rough  the  sea- 
air  does  make  my  hair — I  can  hardly  get  a  comb  through  it.  {arranges 
her  hair)  You  may  come  in  now.  {comes  down.) 

Enter,  l.  2.  e.,  Robert. 

Robert.  Good  mornins,  Miss  Rolleston.  I  hope  the  storm  of  last 
night  did  not  disturb  you  ] 


14  FOUL  PLAY. 

Helen.  Not  in  the  least.  After  the  scenes  of  real  peril  that  we  braved 
in  the  open  boat,  I  am  insensible  to  any  but  the  greatest  dangers.  I  see 
that  the  wind  has  blown  down  the  signal  you  put  up  for  passing  vessels. 
And  the  thunder  at  times  sounded  like  the  guns  of  a  ship  in  distress.  Oh, 
I  am  sure  that  I  shall  often  regret  the  charming  days  we  have  spent  to- 
gether on  this  island,  when  we  shall  be  again  home  in  England.  Oh,  I 
am  sure  to  think  of  you  then  ;  what  would  have  become  of  me,  a  poor, 
weak  girl,  if  it  had  not  been  for  your  strength  and  courage  ?  Your 
courage,  that  came  to  the  aid  of  mine  1  your  strength  that  supported  and 
defended  me  when  1  had  most  need  of  it  ? 

Robekt  (aside).  What  will  become  of  me  when  she  is  away  in  England  1 
where  will  my  strength  and  courage  be,  when  all  that  is  good  in  myself 
shall  have  gone  with  her  1 

Helen.  But  while  I  am  chattering  here,  your  breakfast  is  being  spoilt. 
(going  b.  2  E.) 

Robert.  Stay,  (shakes  his  head)  I  have  no  appetite  to-day. 

Helen.  My  cookery  cannot  tempt  you  1  Alas,  why  was  I  not  born  a 
servant-of-all-work,  so  that  I  might  have  been  useful  and  not  a  burden 
to  you  1 

Robert.  What  will  become  of  me  when  my  burden  "shall  have  gone  1 " 

Helen.  Why  you  will  return  to  England  with  rael 

Robert.  That  is  impossible.  (Helen  surprised  greatly)  I  am  an  out- 
cast of  the  laws — I  am  only  safe  here. 

Helen  (quickly).  Of  what  cri — offence  are  you  accused  1  Stay,  I 
am  unjust.     1  have  no  right  to  ask  that. 

Robert.  Enough  that  I  am  bearing  the  penalty  of  another's  crime. 

Helen.  But  you  shall  be  relieved  of  this.  My  first  steps  shall  be  to 
induce  my  affianced  husband  to  procure  a  lessening  of  your  sentence.  Yes, 
a  pardon,  I  will  require  Arthur  Wardlaw  to  obtain  for  you. 

Robert.  My  pardon  from  Arthur  Wardlaw  1  (fiercely)  He  is  my  bit- 
terest foe ! 

Helen.  Arthur  Wardlaw  your  bitterest  foe  1  Oh,  why  do  you  look  so 
palel     You  never  told  me  this  before. 

Robert.  I  tell  it  now,  because  if  left  untold,  you  would  never  know 
it.  The  signal  that  you  thought  the  wind  had  blown  down,  was  lowered 
by  my  hand.  The  thunder  that  you  heard  was  that  of  guns.  A  Spanish 
brig  has  been  lying  off  the  island  all  night,  and  a  boat's  crew  are  now  on 
shore.  You  can  go  to  England  now,  while  I  must  remain.  Tell  Arthur 
Wardlaw  how  Robert  Penfold  guarded  his  promised  bride — the  girl  that 
1  love ! — and  then  ask  him,  as  you  asked  me  just  now,  "  why  he  looks  so 
pale  1  "  [Bass  drum  beat,  repeated  diminuendo,  for  gun. 

Helen  (aside.)  Robert  Penfold  !  Robert ! 

Robert.  There  goes  the  gun  that  calls  the  boat's  crew  aboard.  You 
have  dear  friends  in  Eugland  !  your  father 

Helen.  Ah  !  you  are  cruel  to  remind  me  of  him. 

Robert  (takes  up  torch.)  Here  is  a  brand — there  is  not  a  moment  to 
lose  to  light  the  signal,  (ship  to  c.) 

Helen.  Give  me  the  brand,  (lakes  torch.) 

Robert.  It  is  even  now  not  too  late.  She  will  return,  (ship  to  l.  c, 
Helen  fiings  torch  off  to  l.  3  e.)  What  do  you  meanl  (crosses  to  l.  c.) 

Helen  (to  r.  c.,)  Do  you  not  see  that  I  love  you!  (both  hands  out.) 

Robert.  Ah!  (ship  off  at  end  of  island.)  My  Helen  !  (embrace)  may  I 
call  you  Helen  1 

Helen.  Yes,  yes. 

Robert.  There  goes  the  ship  that  might  have  taken  you  from  me. 

Helen.  Do  you  regret  ?  (embrace.) 

Music — Scene  closes  in  quick. 


FOUL  PLAY.  15 


SCENE  II. — Exterior  of  Villa,  in  first  grooves.     Gas  up. 

EttUr,  l.,  Joe  Wylie,  slowly  to  d.  in  f.,  Wylie  pulls  bell,  comes  front, 
pauses,  returns  to  bell,  pulls  again,  waits,  l.  c.    Enter  Nancy,  d.  in  f., 
tartly.) 

Nancy.  You're  a  pretty  man  !  If  you  try  again,  perhaps  you  will  have 
the  door  down.     Oh  !  you  is  it  1  What  do  you  want  ] 

Wylie.  Oh,  Nancy  !  (turns  up  his  eyes)  Don't  be  hard  on  me. 

Nancy.  I  ought  to  have  been  harder  yet  long  ago.  You  have  your 
answer.     Go. 

Wylie.  I've  come  to  see  the  young  master. 

Nancy.  You  can't  see  him,  and  what's  more,  you  shan't  see  him.  He 
is  only  just  able  to  move  about  yet,  and  the  sight  of  your  ugly  face 
would  put  him  back  altogether.  Poor  young  gentleman  !  I've  nursed 
him  through  it  all,  though  it  was  so  painful  to  hear  him  calling  out  how 
he  loved  her  !  how  he  had  himself  lost  his  own  Helen. 

Wylie.  How  was  I  to  know  that  she  was  his  Helen  1 

Nancy.  It  was  a  woman,  that  was  enough  !  Oh,  I  suppose  you  were 
too  busy  saving  your  own  ugly  carcass  to  think  of  anybody  else. 

Wylie.  There  was  no  room  in  the  long  boat  for  her. 

Nancy.  There  was  room  enough  for  you,  wasn't  there  1  and  that- was 
one  too  many  !  I  won't  have  auything  to  do  with  a  man  that  would  let 
a  woman  go  under  the  water  right  under  his  very  eyes. 

Wylie.  Oh,  Nancy  !     Now,  Nancy ! 

Nancy.  No,  no !  (work  up  a  quarrel,  by  repeating  these  last  two  lines  to- 
gether quickly.) 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  Arthur. 

Arthur  (in  a  weak  voice).  Wylie,  what  are  you  doing  here  1 

Wylie.  I  came  to  see  you,  sir,  (in  a  whisper)  and  I  must!  (follows 
Nancy  up  to  d.  in  f.,  to  her)  Now,  Nance  ! 

Nancy.  No,  not  if  there  wasn't  another  man  in  the  world  !  (slams  d.  in 
F.  in  his  face.     Wylie  comes  doivn  l.  c.  front.) 

Arthur  (c.  front).  Well,  Joe,  well  1 

Wylie.  They  have  got  some  suspicions  at  Lloyd's  that  there  was  foul 
play  about  the  Proserpine  ;  they  had  me  up  afore  the  board,  and  they 
turned  me  inside  out. 

Arthur.  What  means  this  suspicion  1 

Wylie.  It's  been  started  by  some  news  from  General  Rolleston. 

Arthur.  Who  sailed  five  months  ago  in  the  Springbok  in  search  of 
his  daughter. 

Wylie.  I  say,  gov'nor,  there's  no  likelihood  of  his  fishing  up  any  in- 
formation with  that  ere  'Lantic  Telegraph  1 

Arthur.  Pooh  pooh!  no,  no! 

Wylie.  There's  no  knowing  what's  what,  with  these  scientific  chaps. 

Arthur.  Where  have  you  stowed  away  that  gold  brought  up  from 
Liverpool  1 

Wylie.  The  boxes  is  in  a  house  in  Southwark — a  house  that  they  say 
is  haunted,  because  of  a  horrid  murder  that  was  committed  in  the  kitchen. 
I  have  got  the  cases  there  all  snug. 

Arthur.  There  let  it  lie  and  rot!  I  won't  touch  an  ounce  of  it. 
(cross  r.  front  and  return  to  c,  passionately)  There's  blood  in  the  very 
color  of  it. 

Wylie.  All  right,  gov'nor,  if  you  say  so. 


16  FOUL  PLAY. 

Arthur.  Since  Helen's  death,  everything  has  smiled  on  me.  I  have 
retrieved  all  my  errors  and  begun  a  new  life. 

Wylie.  Just  as  you  like,  gov'nor  ;  I've  got  my  share  all  reg'lar. 

Arthur.  Your  two  thousand  pounds  1 

Wylie.  It  makes  me  as  miserable  as  you  your  half-a-million  !  Here 
you  are!  (produces  roll  of  bank-bills)  I  can't  sleep  for  them!  I've  been 
carrying  them  around  with  me  these  three  weeks — I  don't  know  what  to  do 
with  them.  I  daren't  go  anywhere  to  get  a  fifty- pound  note  changed,  and 
they're  all  fifties !  I  can't  find  anywhere  to  put  them.  If  I  can't  get 
any  rest  with  this  lot  under  my  pillow,  how  am  I  to  sleep  with  half-a- 
million  under  me  in  the  cellars  ? 

Arthur,  (to  l.  c).  Hush,  you  fool !  (Wylie  to  r.)  Here  comes  my 
father ! 

Enter,  l.,  Wardlaw,  letter  in  hand. 

Wardlaw.  Good  news,  my  son.  A  letter  from  Sir  Edward  Rolleston, 
from  Valparaiso.  "  An  American  brig  is  just  in  port ;  a  wild  duck 
alighted  on  her  masts  at  sea,  to  which  was  attached  a  scroll,  saying : 
Two  survivors  of  the  ship  Proserpine  are  cast  away  on  an  island  about 
five  thousand  miles  west  of  Valparaiso." 

Wylie.  That's  it ! 

Arthur.  Then  she  may  be  one Oh,  father ! 

Ward.  Be  calm.  I  hope  it.  But  when  one  thinks  of  their  perils,  a 
young  and  delicate  girl  is  likely  to  have  succumbed 

Arthur.  No  !  I  feel  that  she  lives — something  tells  me  that  I  shall 
see  her  again. 

Ward.  I  will  at  once  send  this  to  the  underwriters  at  Lloyds.  Wylie, 
I  shall  want  you  to  take  it. 

Wylie.  All  right,  sir. 

Ward.  I  will  enclose  it  in  an  envelope.  [Exit  d.  in  f. 

Arthur.  What  good  news.     I  am  all  joy  again. 

Wylie.  No,  sir,  it's  not  good  news !  it  is  bad  news.  We  have  got  all 
our  work  to  do  over  again. 

Arthur.  What  do  you  mean  1 

Wylie.  Why,  sir,  there  wasn't  one  of  the  four  seamen  in  the  cutter 
that  knew  bow  to  write !  One  of  them  two  that  is  saved  must  be  the 
missionary  chap. 

Arthur.  A  missionary  1  (sneering)  We'll  soon  manage  him. 

Wylie.  He's  no  more  a  missionary  than  you  are — he's  a  convict 

Arthur.  Then  lie  can  be  bought. 

Wylie.  You  don't  know  who  lie  is  yet.  This  one  can't  be  bought  or 
bribed.  He  is  your  deadliest  foe.  He  is  the  man  you  transported  for 
forgery.     He  is  Robert  Penfold. 

Arthur.  Penfold!  (amazed.) 

Wylie.  And  he  loves  her!  stand  up  to  it  guv'nor.  (supports  Arthur) 
You  will  need  all  your  coolness  and  calmness  now  ;  hold  up  your  hea.l, 
guv'nor,  hold  up  your  head.. 

Arthur.  Are  your  sure  it  is  he  1  (Wylie  nods)  Oh,  where  is  he  now  ? 

Wylie.  Calm  yourself.  This  is  a  regular  taking-back,  but  meet  ii, 
sir,  meet  it !     Don't  look  so  pale. 

Arthur.  Worse  than  1  could  have  feared!  leave  me,  Wylie.  (at  d.  ui 
p.)  I  am  sick  at  heart!  (Exit  d.  in  p.,  repeating)  Sick  at  heart,  sick  at 
heart!  (closes door  in  W ylie's  face.) 

Wylie  (to  l.  c,  front,  long  breath.)  Whew!  (wipes  his  forehead  with 
handkerchief  carried  insule  of  hat)  So  am  1 !  i'oul  play  comes  to  the  top 


FOUL   TLAY.  17 

like  a  cork  !  If  it  weren't  for  Nance  here,  I'd  start  for  New  York  to- 
night.    That  gal  will  be  the  ruin  of  me  !  That's  the  way  with  them  ! 

[Exit  l. 
Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  III. — Forest  in  first  grooves,  run  on  or  let  down,  if  a  canvas  drop, 
before  previous  set.      Gas  down  half-turn. 

Enter,  L.  to  c,  Robert,  leaning  on  Helen,  and  on  cane  in  other  hand. 

Helen.  How  do  you  feel  now  1 

Robert.  I  am  much  better. 

Helen.  But  not  well  1  not  quite  well  yet  1 

Robert.  The  fever  has  left  me  very  weak. 

Helen.  I  do  not  hope  you  shall  soon  recover  your  strength,  for  it 
is  some  return  for  me  to  give  you  my  support,  if  only  in  a  walk. 

Robert.  I  must  get  well  again,  if  only  to  see  to  our  signals  for  pass- 
ing ships. 

Helen.  Do  you  remember  our  compact  1 

Robert.  That  when  one  year  should  have  gone,  without  there  coming 
any  vessel  to  take  you  off,  I  would  have  a  right  to  claim  this  hand  1  Till 
the  very  last  I  should  try,  for  now  the  moment  is  not  properly  come. 

Helen.  When  I  made  the  promise,  I  made  it  eagerly  to  be  fulfilled. 
I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  world  now,  least  of  all  with  Arthur 
Wardlaw. 

Robert.  Do  not  mention  his  nam". 

Helen.  You  have  never  told  liie        muse  of  your  enmity. 

Robert.  The  time  had  not  come  -i.iinow. 

Helen.  No,  not  yet.  When  1  am  your  wife.  Not  before.  I  do  not 
wish  to  share  your  secrets  b  fore  1  have  full  right  to  share  your  sorrows 
and  your  joys.  But  hark!  (looks  off  r.)  Do  you  not  hear1?  there  must 
be  some  one  on  the  island  !  how  strangely  the  r"og  barks  ! 

Robert.  Some  vulture  has  attacked  your  hens  and  chickens,  and  he  is 
defending  them.     I  will  go  quick  and 

Helen.  No!  after  me  !  Remember,  this  day  you're  to  love  and  obey, 
and  your  fi: st  act  must  not  b.j  one  of  disobedience,  (smdes,  runs  offn.) 

Robert.  Shall  I  sully  her  pure  mind  with  the  story  of  the  crime  for 
which  I  have  suffered  1  I  am  revenged  on  Arthur  Wardlaw.  No  !  I 
will  keep  it  from  her.  I  will  bury  the  old  past,  and  let  my  new  life  begin 
froiii  to-day.  [Exit  R  ,  leaning  on  cane. 

Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  I V. — Island  as  before.  Gas  down.  Moonlight  effect,  revolving  bar- 
rel c,  4th  entrance  under  transparent  canvas,  for  the  shine  on  waves. 
Discover  boat  c. ,  some  sailors  in  it,  some  just  steppe  I  out.  Rolleston 
up  C,  oar  in  hand. 

Rolles.  There,  my  lads,  spread  about  over -the  island.  They  can't  be 
far.  (several  sailors  exeunt  l.)  Is  my  daughter  one  of  the  two  ?  (comes  down 
c.  after  sailors  exeunt  l.,  slowly)  I  do  not  dare  to  believe  the  hopes  in  my 

heart.    What's  here  1     A  hut.  (cros  es  r.)  If  my  poor  cliild What's 

tins'?  (in  hut)  a  watch,  her  watch!  "Arthur  to  Helen!''  his  present. 
Stav  !  do  not  let  me  hope  too  much  !  another  may  have  worn  it. 

(  Voice  of  Helen  of  l.).  Where  is  he  7 

Runs  on  l.  2  e.,  followed  by  mural  Sailors,  who  remain  l. 
Helen.  Where  is  he  !  (stops  l  ) 


18  FOUL   PLAY. 

Rolles.  Helen!  (c.) 

Helen.  Father ! 

Rolles.   My  child!  (Helen  rnus  into  his  mint.) 

Helen.  Do  I  see  you  !  {hysterical  sob)  Oh,  oh,  oh  .'  ^Sailors  talk  among 
themselves  with  emotion.) 

Rolles.  Helen !  if  your  joy  is  like  mine,  this  moment  must  repay  you 
for  all  the  sufferings  you  have  experienced. 

Helen.  Sorrow  for  you  and  for  others,  but  of  sufferings  there  were 
none. 

Rolles.  Where  is  the  brave  fellow  to  whom  I  owe  your  safety  7 

Helen.  The  brave  fellow,  papa,  is  a  gentleman. 

Rolles.  I  might  have  known  he  was  no  common  man  who  {laughing) 
would  dream  of  converting  wild  ducks  into  itinerant  postmen. 

Enter,  l.  2  s.,  Robert,  stopping  there,  leaning  on  cane. 

Helen.  This  is  he,  papa. 

Rolles.  {aside).  Surely  I  have  seen  that  face  before. 

Helen.  You  turn  away  your  head.  Father,  this  is  the  gentleman  who 
saved  me 

Rolles.  Leave  us,  lads.  (Sailors  exeunt  l.)  The  gentleman  !  You 
are  the  victim  of  some  great  deceit,  my  child.  Speak,  Robert  Peniold  ! 
eight  years  ago  were  you  not  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  and  sentenced  to 
fourteen  years'  penal  servitude 

Helen.  A  convict! 

Rolles.  Deceived  by  his  pretended  submission  and  repentant  demean- 
or, I  granted  him  a  remission  of  his  sentence,  and  he  repaid  my  lenience 
by  breaking  his  parole. 

Helen  {to  Robert)  Is  this  true  1 

Robert.  Every  word  ;  I  do  not  deny  it. 

Helen.  I  will  not  believe  it.  A  martyr  you  may  have  been,  a  felon 
you  cannot  re  !  {to  Robert,  offering  hand.) 

Robert.  Heaven  bless  you  for  the  words  !  what  the  wits  of  twelve  men 
could  not  find  out,  with  a  whole  bench  of  judges  to  enlighten  them,  a  sim- 
ple girl  has  divined. 

Rolles.  What  is  that! 

Robert.  The  truth. 

Rolles.  {coldly).  I  have  no  desire  to  enter  into  a  discussion  with  you. 

Helen.  Father,  why  do  you  speak  to  him  so  coldly  7  Have  you  al- 
ready forgotten  that  he  has  saved  and  preserved  me  7 

RofcLES.  Cunning  calculation !  he  foresaw  this,  and  thought  it  would 
weigh  in  the  scales  of  justice. 

Helen.  Pay  1  was  it  for  pay  that  he  starved,  that  I  might  have  the  food 
that  kept  me  living  to  this  day  1  wis  it  for  pay  that  he  shed  his  blood  for  me  7 
The  life  that  you  gave  me,  has  been  snatched  by  him  from  the  peril  of  cruel 
men,  wild  elements  and  hideous  creatu  es  !  and  it  is  doubly  his  now 
that  I  have  to  pay  your  debt  with  my  own.  {embraces  Robert.) 

Rolles.  Ah ! 

Helen.    I  love  him  ! 

Rolles.  Helen;  you  forget  you  are  going  to  ma.ry  Arthur  Wardlaw. 

Helen  {turns  with  clasped  hatutsfrom  Robert  to  Rolleston  and  back 
again,  tearfully).  What  am  I  to  do  7 

Robert.  Obey  your  father!  Sir,  promise  that  your  daughter  shall 
never  marry  a  felon. 

Rolles.  That  I  will  swear. 

Robert.  Then  Arthur  Wardlaw's  she  will  never  be.  {draws  Helfn*  to 
him)  Listen  to  me,  Helen.     In  our  college  days,  I  was  Arthur  Wardlaw's 


PdtriTPiST.  19 

tutor.  I  had  hoped  to  save  enough  to  buy  me  a  small  "living?  One'day 
he  came  to  my  room,  and  showed  me  a  note  which  he  wished  me  to  en- 
dorse. I  knew  nothing  of  these  things.  I  presented  it  and  was  paid ; 
half  the  money  I  kept,  half  went  to  him.  Half-an-hour  afterwards,  I  was 
arrested  ;  the  note  was  a  forgery,  the  name  was  not  signed  by  Arthur's 
father.  He  denied  everything.  I  had  no  proofs  I  was  tried,  convicted 
and  sent  out  of  England  what  I  am. 

Rolles.  This  is  a  terrible  accusation  to  bring  against  a  man  of  un- 
spotted character,  sir. 

Robert.  Unspotted  on  the  outside.  But  the  man  who  begins  life 
with  a  crime,  rarely  turns  back  from  the  path  of  guilt.  The  Proserpine 
was  scuttled  and  lost  at  sea  by  his  orders  ! 

Rolles.  What  proof  have  you  1 

Robert.  Next  to  none. 

Rolles.  Destroy  a  ship  with  a  treasure  on  board — impossible ! 

Robert.  I  state  facts,  and  do  not  reconcile  discrepancies.  I  saw  the 
gold  stowed  away,  and  that  perplexes  me.  The  survivors  believed  like 
me,  but  two  of  them  are  under  the  waves,  and  two  of  them  lie  in  the 
shingle  yonder,  {lifts  his  hat.) 

Helen.  But  their  dying  words  were  taken  down  and  witnessed  by  me. 
{gets  Bible  r.,  and  gives  it  to  Rolleston.) 

Rolleston  {reads).  "  I,  Samuel  Cooper,  able-bodied  seaman,  being 
about  to  slip  my  cable  and  sail  into  the  presence  of  my  Maker,  say,  that 
it's  my  belief  there  was  foul  play  with  the  old  Proserpine.  When 
she  went  down,  I  saw  two  auger  holes  in  her  side,  about  forty  foot  from 
her  starn.  She  was  destroyed  wilful.  It's  my  belief  Joe  Wylie  scuttled 
that  'ere  ship  and  cast  away  her  people.  Sam  Cooper,  his  mark."  "  I 
say  what  Sam  says.  Tom  Welch,  his  mark."  "  Witness :  Helen  Rol- 
leston."    Ah ! 

Helen  {triumphantly).  What  do  you  say  now  1 

Rolles.  {offers  Robert  his  hand).  That  I  must  believe  in  the  truth. 

Robert  {shaking  hands  warmly).  How  welcome  is  the  grasp  of  an  hon- 
orable hand.  I  breathe  again. 

Helen.  I  thank  you  too,  my  father.  You  will  see  him  reinstated  in  his 
rights  1    He  goes  with  us  to  England. 

Robert.  Stay  !  Your  father  knows  my  duty,  and  I  will  tell  you  his. 
As  the  governor  of  a  penal  settlement,  he  is  bound  to  arrest  me  if  I  set 
foot  on  a  British  ship,  and  carry  me  in  chains  to  English  soil. 

Helen.  You  would  stay  here  ! 

Robert.  Here  I  am  free.  While  I  am  here,  you  will  be  working  for 
me  in  England  as  I  have  worked  here  for  you ;  clear  my  good  name, 
restore  me  to  my  old  father  as  I  have  restored  you  to  yours.  Say  fare- 
well and  go  ! 

Helen.  Farewell !  and  you  will  remain  alone  1 

Robert.  I  will  remain  here,  but  not  alone  !  your  spirit  will  hover  near 
me,  and  all  the  objects  you  have  touched  will  be  companions  in  my  soli- 
tude. 

Rolles.  By  Jove,  but  you  are  a  noble  fellow  ! 

Robert.  You  must  go ! 

Sailors  enter  l.  and  c,  form  picture,  some  in  boat,  up  c. 

You  take  with  you  all  that  I  live  for,  and  I  shall  not  be  a  feeling 
man  till  you  come  back. 

Helen.  No!  if  we  part  now,  we  shall  never  meet  again!  {clinging  to 
Robert.) 

Robert.  Courage ! 


20  POUL'PiaLYl 

Helen.  Oh,  father!  I  cannot ler.ve  him! 

Robert.  You  must !  for  my  sake !  for  your  father's !  Go  !  Helen ! 
let  this  kiss  be  the  seal  of  our  bond  (kisses  her)  Go !  Until  you  come 
back  my  heart  ceases  to  beat.  (Helen  faints  in  his  arms  as  he  it  about  to 
transfer  her  to  Rolleston.) 

Aliform  picture. 

***%*Sailors. 
Rolleston.*  *Robert 

♦Helen. 

slow  curtain. 

Note.— If  curtain  is  called  up,  Helen  is  in  Rolleston's  arms,  still  fainted,  in  boat, 
Robert  kneeling  l.  c,  looking  at  her.  sailors  in  boat  about  to  shore  her  off  to- 
wards B. 


ACT  III. 

SCENE  I. — Room  in  country  house,  in  fourth  groove,  discovering  at  l.  table 
Helen,  Burtenshaw,  Ward  law;  at  r.  table,  Arthur  seated,  Haw- 
kins standing,  his  overcoat  thrown  back,  his  note-book  in  hand. 

Burtenshaw  (to  Wardlaw).  Really,  sir,  I  wish  to  proceed  with  all 
delicacy  in  this  strange  affair,  (gives  paper  to  Helen,  who  reads  it.) 

Hawkins.  The  lady  will  please  sign  the  paper,  if  she  has  no  objections  1 

Helen.  Oh,  none,  in  the  least,  (writes  on  paper  and  gives  it  to  Haw- 
kins.) 

Hawkins  (to  Arthur).  As  a  magistrate,  will  you  please  sign  this 

(pause,  then  empathically)  affidavit? 

Arthur  (starts).  Affidavit  1 

Hawkins.  Yes,  sir.  You'll  find  it  all  drawn  out  properly.  I  like  to 
have  these  things  complete  and  regular.  (Arthur  reads  paper  and  signs 
reluctantly,  Hawkins  watching  him.) 

Burt,  (to  Wardlaw).  I  am  struggling  for  my  home,  sir. 

Ward,  (to  Burtenshaw).  From  the  moment  there  is  anything  ap- 
parently wrong  in  the  affair,  we  wash  our  hands  of  it.  At  the  first  proof 
of  its  reality,  the  money  will  be  refunded  to  the  underwriters  of  course. 
(talks  with  Burtenshaw.) 

Hawkins  (blots  and  folds  up  paper).  Now  1  have  got  something  to  work 
upon.  The  depositions  of  the  dying  seamen  Welsh  and  Cooper,  witli 
Miss  Rolleston  as  witness,  are  quite  to  the  purpose.  The  only  other 
thing  that  puzzled  me  was  where  did  the  gold  go  that  was  stated  to  b ; 
aboard  the  Proserpine.  (Musing.) 

Arthur.  That  is  clearly  settled.     It  is  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Burt,  (meaningly).  If  not  there,  (Arthur  starts)  where  d.d  it  go? 

Hawkins.  Yes,  if  not  there,  where  did  it  go  ?  (scratches  his  chin  in 
thought,  looking  at  Arthur.) 

Arthur  (laughs  nervously).  How  should  I  know  1  I  didn't  go  with  it, — 
(sneer)  did  you  ? 

Hawkins  (quietly).  Well,  sir,  part  of  the  way,  sir. 

Arthur.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Hawkins.  If  you  will  allow  me  to  refresh  my  memory  (opens  his  note' 
Kok)  I  will  have  the  pleasure  of  infoitntug  you. 


FOUL   PLAY.  21 

Arthur.  Proceed. 

Hawkins  (mumbling  to  himself).  Mum — mum — R — S — V — W.  W.  I 
like  to  have  tilings  complete  and  regular.  Well,  I  find  that  Joe  Wylie, 
mate  of  the  Proserpine,  disappeared  from  his  lodgings  on  the  twelfth  of 
January  last.  He  went  to  Liverpool  and  claimed  certain  cases  marked 
copper,  consigned  to  him  per  Shannon,  and  they  were  delivered  on  the 
fifth  of  last  Fehruary. 

Arthur.  What  does  this  prove  1 

Burt.  We  shall  see. 

Hawkins.  On  the  filth  of  Fehruary.     Well,  sir,  on  the  seventh  of* 
Fehruary  he  took  them  to  Loudon,  and  on  the  eighth  they  were  remove! 
by  him  from  Euston-Square  station.     That,  sir,  is  the  part  of  the  w  ;■. 
that  I  went  with  the  treasure. 

Ward.  But  you  said  that  those  cases  contained  copper 

Hawkins.  I  said  they  were  marked  "  copper  " — I  like  to  have  th'ngs 
complete  and  regular ! 

Arthur.  A  mare's  nest! 

Hawkins.  Then,  sir,  there  can  be  no  harm  in  it.  Oh,  sir,  I've  m.ide 
my  calculations.  The  cases  were  taken  by  measurement  on  the  ship, 
here  is  the  length,  breadth  and  depth  in  the  manifest — here  it  is,  sir.  1  like 
to  have  things  complete  and  regular.  On  the  railway,  they  took  them 
by  weight.  Look  at  here,  sir.  (to  Arthur,  stowing  note-book')  If  those 
cases  had  contained  copper,  they  ought  to  have  weighed  about  seventeen 
hundred  weight — but  they  weighed  nigh  twenty-four  hundred  weight ! 
Seven  hundred  weight  too  much  !  Now  1  should  like  to  know  what 
was  in  those  cases  to  make  that  overplus. 

Ward.  Then  your  theory  is  that  the  cases  marked  copper  really  con- 
tained gold,  while  the  gold  cases  were  filled  with  copper  and  lost  in  the 
Proserpine. 

Hawkins.  That  does  away  with  the  absence  of  motive,  sir.  But 
there's  one  thing  puzzles  me.  It  is  clear  that  the  game  is  too  big  for  a 
man  like  Wylie  to  be  in  it  alone.  He  must  be  only  the  tool — the  mere 
instrument  of  some  abler  designer.  Hem  !  never  mind.  I  dare  say  I 
shall  light  upon  him  soon,  (turns  to  Arthdr  sharply)  Heie's  the  wan  ant, 
by-the-bye,  (Arthur  starts  back  from  the  presented  p  per)  for  the  appie- 
hension  of  Joseph  Wylie.     Would  you  please  sisn  it] 

Arthur  (recovering).  Warrant  !  Joseph  Wylie  is  an  old  servant  of  our 
flim.  We  never  had  cause  to  suspect  him.  Really,  such  a  proceeding 
on  the  part  of  a  perfect  stranger 

Hawkins.  Perfect  stranger,  oh,  I  see.  Mr.  Burtenshaw,  will  you  please 
introduce  me  1 

Burt.  Captain  Hawkins,  of  Scotland  Yard.  (Helen  rises.) 

Arthur.  Hawkins! 

Hawkins  (presents  card  to  Arthur,  and  points  at  it  with  pencil).  "  S.  S." 
On  secret  service,  sir. 

Ward.  Really,  Mr.  Burtenshaw,  a  police  officer  in  my  house  in  dis- 
guise  

Hawkins.  Oh,  no  disguise,  sir !  Mr.  Burtenshaw  would  have  it  for 
fear  of  disturbing  the  ladies.  I  like  to  have  things  complete  and  regular 
myself. 

Burt,  (to  Wardlaw).  You  must  pardon  me,  Mr.  Wardlaw.  The  loss 
of  the  Proserpine  swept  my  little  fortune  from  under  me.  I  am  fighting 
for  my  wife  and  home.  I  shall  fight  it  out  to  the  last,  like  a  desperate, 
but  honest  man.  (goes  up  h.  c.  with  Wardlaw  in  talk,  and  then  slowly  go 
off  r.  u.  e.     Helen  goes  up  and  crosses  to  r.  r.  earner.) 

Hawkins.  You  will  sign  this.  (Akthl'u  slowb)  writes  on  paper)  Thank 
you.     By  the  way,  can  you  give  me  this  *W\  lie's  address  1 


22  FOUL   PLAY. 

Arthur.  Really,  I — I  don't  know — I  think  we  heard  from  him  last  at 
Aberdeen — (Hawkins  has  his  note-book  in  hand)  he  took  command  of  a 
ahip  fiom  that  port. 

Hawkins.  Aberdeen? 

Arthur.  The  owners  wrote  to  us  about  the  testimonial 

Hawkins.  Yes,  yes 

Arthur  {impatiently).  Or  something  of  that  sort ! 

Hawkins.  Of  that  sort.  Certainly.  You  don't  happen  to  remember 
the  name  of  his  ship  1 

Arthur.  Of  course,  not.     Some  of  our  clerks 

Hawkins.  Yes,  yes,  of  course,  (closes  book)  All  right,  sir.  Aberdeen's 
enough  for  me.  Good  morning,  sir !  (salutes  Helen)  Good  morning, 
miss.  [Exit  d.  in  r.  1  E.,  with  glance  over  shoulder  at  Arthur. 

Arthur  (rises  angrily,  but  sees  Helen,  who  crosses  to  l  u.  e.).  Helen  ! 
(she  stops)  don't  go.  (Helen  comes  down  c,  he  on  her  l.)  I  must  speak 
with  you.  Helen,  for  the  last  few  days  you  have  seemed  to  avoid  me. 
You  shrink  from  me  now,  you  hesitate  to  answer  me. 

Helen.  The  first  month  that  I  was  welcomed  home  to  England,  socie- 
ty received  me  as  a  heroine,  the  heroine  of  the  wreck.  But  soon  I  felt 
the  smiles  of  women,  and  I  saw  them  draw  away  from  me,  from  the  girl 
who  had  spent  a  year  alone  on  an  island  with  an  outcast  man.  I  knew 
their  thought.  All  believe  me  no  fit  companion  for  any  man  but  one 
— the  convict ! 

Arthur.  Your  susceptible  mind,  and  tender  heart,  are  wrong.  I  be- 
lieve in  no  such  suspicions. 

Helen.  Yes! 

Arthur.  No ! 

Helen.  False !  you  do,  you  do !  I  did  not  come  to  your  open  arms 
because  the  arms  of  another  man  have  been  around  my  waist,  my  neck ; 
I  could  not  speak  to  you,  hardly,  for  the  words  must  pass  through  the 
lips  that  are  still  warm  with  his  kiss. 

Arthur.  I  can  overlook  a  wild  impulse  of  gratitude,  in  the  greater 
depth  of  my  love  for  you.  How  can  you  love  him !  Why,  you  were 
with  him  but  for  a  few  weeks,  while  you  have  known  me  all  your  life. 

Helen.  He  accuses  you  of  the  crime  for  which  he  bears  the  penalty. 
Swear  that  he  has  calumniated  you 

Arthur  (hesitates).  I  swear!  (crosses  to  l.  front)  I  swear,  (returns  toe.) 
What  would  not  a  man  do  for  your  sake  1 

Helen.  Yet  I  cannot  believe  that  he 

Arthur.  Need  I  prove  it  again  1 

Helen.  Remember  that  this  man's  good  name  can  only  be  established 
at  the  cost  of  yours !  Once  he  is  set  right,  you  are  ruined  for  ever.  Even 
now  it  may  be  too  late  !  Robert  Penfold  has  an  agent  of  his  in  England, 
in  the  bosom  of  your  family. 

Arthur.  An  agent  here  1  who  1 

Helen.  I ! 

Arthur.  You  !  Helen  ! 

Enter,  r.  1  e.  d.,  Hawkins. 

Hawkins.  I  beg  pardon  for  interrupting,  (r.) 

Helen.  None.  I  wanted  j'ou,  sir.  (Arthur  recovers  his  coolness)  Re- 
flect, Arthur.  For  5-our  own  sake,  for  your  father's,  do  not  brave  the 
certain  disclosure  of  the  truth.  It  is  not  too  late,  perhaps.  I  am  glad  I 
have  at  last  thrown  aside  the  terrible  mask.  Remember,  if  he  is  to 
come  from  his  prison  now,  you  must  open  the  doors  to  him,  not  I!  (upc.) 
Be  kind  enough  to  inform  Mr.  Wardlaw  of  what  facts  vou  have  gathered 


FOUL  PLAY.  23 

and  the  steps  you  have  taken,  {bow,  exit  h.  u.  e.)  Good-morning,  (they 
salute  her.) 

Arthur  (l.  front).  Well,  I  am  hewildered. 

Hawkins.  I'm  not  surprised,  sir.  (at  c.  front  on  Arthur's  l.)  Look 
here,  sir  ;  when  I  have  to  do  with  a  simple-minded  fellow,  I  play  cun- 
ning, hut  when  it's  a  leary,  knowing  man,  I  face  him.  The  young  lady's 
advice  is  good.     Pack  up  your  trunks. 

Arthur.  What  have  I  to  fear  1 

Hawkins.  There's  no  knowing,  sir.  (goes  up  r.  c.  to  let  Arthur  come 
to  table)  Perhaps  there  may  be  some  screw  loose. 

Arthur.  I  hope  I  am  personally  .Voove  suspicion,  (seated.) 

Hawkins.  Would  you  give  me  the  address  of  Joe  Wylie,  sir  1 

Arthur.  I  know  nothing  about  him,  I  tell  you. 

Hawkins.  Oh,  you  do  not.  Humph  !  (presents  letter)  I  wonder  if  there's 
anything  in  this  about  him  1 

Arthur.  How  dare  you  meddle  with  my  correspondence  1 

Hawkins.  Oh,  no  offence,  sir.  I  saw  it  lying  on  the  hall  table  as  I 
passed  in.     I  saw  it  was  in  Wylie's  hand. 

Arthur.  Sir ! 

Hawkins.  Oh,  yes,  I  have  a  bit  of  his  writing  with  me,  and  I  compar- 
ed them.  I  like  to  have  things  complete  and  regular.  (Music.  Leans  or, 
back  of  Arthur's  chair  as  Arthur  reads  letter)  So  you  won't  give  me 
Wylie's  address  1  (Arthur  makes  a  sign  of  impatience,  Hawkins  looks  a> 
him,  smiles,  goes  up  c.  a  few  steps,  looks  around,  comes  down,  taps  Arthur 
on  left  shoulder)  Never  mind,  sir.  I  learn  he  was  seen  in  Southwark — 
(Arthur  starts  and  puis  his  hand  over  letLr)  I'll  find  him.  Pack  up  yout 
trunks,  Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw  !  (goes  up  a  feiv  steps,  pauses,  scratches  his  chit 
thoughtfully ,  shakes  his  head,  and  slowly  goes  off  l.  U.  E.) 

Arthur.  That  man  evidently  suspects  something.  He  has  a  clue  to 
Wylie's  retreat.  I  must  go  to  London  and  force  the  fellow  to  leave  the 
country.  What  can  they  bring  home  to  me  1  Nothing.  Wylie  has  been 
alone  in  it  from  first  to  last.  Let  me  see,  let  me  see.  (pause)  No,  no, 
nothing.  Let  Helen  suspect  me.  Once  she  is  my  wife,  I  need  care  little 
for  her  secret  thoughts.  I  will  beat  them  yet!  (rises,  to  c.)  Wylie  must 
take  it  all  on  his  shoulders,  and  then  I  shall  have  rest.  Rest !  I  am  so 
weary  now  of  the  continual  struggle,  (seated  l.)  Giddy,  weary  to  heart- 
breaking. Oh !  how  my  head  burns !  how  it  burns  !  (head  falls  on  his 
arms  on  table.) 

Scene  closes  in  quick. 

SCENE  II. — Street  in  jirst  grooves.    Gas  down. 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  Nancy,  looks  off  r.  and  l.,  then  returns  to  d.  in  p. 

Nancy.  It's  all  r'ght,  Joe.  Not  a  soul  in  sight !  You  can  come  out  now. 

Enter,  d.  in  F.,  Joe,  in  hat  and  long  coat,  very  uneasily. 

There's  nothing  for  you  to  be  frightened  of. 

Wylie.  Nance,  I  want  you  to  pack  up  and  get  ready  to  go  with  me. 

Nancy.  Move  again,  when  I  have  hardly  settled  down  in  this  house  1 

Wylie.  You  must.  There's  danger  for  me  here.  I'm  sure  the  place 
is  watched.  I  tell  you  what,  you  be  ready  to  go  out  in  the  morning.  I'll 
call  for  you,  and  we'll  go  to  the  Register's  first  thing  and  be  married. 
(Nancy  chips  her  hands.)  Yes.  I've  got  a  nice  place  for  us  up  at  Hox- 
ton. 

Nancy.  Have  you  1 


24  FOUL  PLAY. 

Wylie.  With  a  back  entrance  on  the  canal.  Oh,  a  much  livelier  place 
than  this — oh  !  {looks  l.) 

Nancy.  What  (  (catches  Aim.) 

Wylie.  A — a — p — p — policeman! 

Nancy.  No  !  it's  the  pillar-post. 

Wylie.  It  give  me  such  a  turn.  Whenever  I  catch  sight  of  one  of 
them  land-marines  in  blue,  it  gives  me  a  small  attack  of  the  cholera. 

Nancy.  But  policemen  don't  take  people  up  for  debt,  Joe. 

Wylie.  Oh,  they  are  not  pertickler. 

Nancy.  Joe,  look  me  in  the  face!  (business  of  ion  turning  his  face  every 
other  way  till  Nancy  holds  it  between  her  hands.) 

Wylie.  I  am  looking. 

Nancy.  You  have  not  been  doing  anything  to  be  afraid  of,  have  you  1 
tell  me  ! 

Wylie.  Only  speculating,  that's  all  Nancy.  Getting  a  fortune  for 
you 

Nancy.  Poor  Joe!  (pats  his  head.) 

Wylie.  Poor  old  Joe  !  So  I  am  to  expect  you  to  be  ready  bright  and 
early  in  the  morning. 

Nancy.  If  you  ain't  deceiving  me. 

Wylie.  Oh  ! 

Nancy.  For  I  am  the  woman  to  stick  to  him  that  I  love,  as  long  as  he 
tells  me  all  he  does — that's  my  sort. 

Wylie.  Oh,  Nance  ! 

Nancy.  You  shall  have  a  kiss  to  dream  over  till  morning,  (tries  to  open 
Wylie's  beard)  Wiry,  where's  your  face  ? 

Wylie.  Here  it  is,  Nance  ! 

Nancy.  Never  mind.     Ill  give  it  to  you  next  time,  (up  B.  c.) 

Wylie.  Oh,  Nance  now  ! 

Nancy.  Goodnight!  [Exit  d   in  t.,  laughing, 

Wylie  (alone).  She's  a  good  lass !  she's  worth  her  weight  in  go — in 
go — (by  an  effort)  old !  (coughs)  Cussed  stuff!  It's  blood -mouey !  I 
wonder  what  she'd  say  if  she  knew  I  wasn't  poor  at  all  1  Ah  !  she  little 
knows  that  I  am  living  all  alone  in  this  old  house  next  door,  when  I  come 
to  her  every  evening  with  three-penn'orth  of  ham,  to  talk  with  her  over 
our  poverty  and  troubles.  I'll  be  plaguey  glad  to  get  away  from  here, 
somewhere  where  I  can  enjoy  my  two  thousand.  There's  suspicious 
characters  prowling  about,  and  I'm  downright  anxious,  (looks  off  b.) 

Enter,  l.,  Hawkins  and  Detective. 

Hawkins.  You  are  sure  that's  the  girl  1 

Detective.  I  am  sure,  sir. 

[Exit  k.,  when  Wylie  looks  after  him  uneasily. 

Hawkins  (touches  Wylie  on  left  shoulder  anJJte  starts).  I  say,  my  friend, 
you  seem  sweet  in  that  quarter  ! 

Wylie  (altered  voice).  What's  that  to  you  1 

Hawkins.  She's  a  sweetheart  of  my  friend's  there,  (points  off  b.) 

Wylie.  A  sweetheart  of 

Hawkins.  Him,  Joe  Wylie  ! 

Wylie  (starts).  Eh? 

Hawkins.  Haven't  you  seen  an  ugly  chap  prowling  about  here — a  man 
taller  than  you,  (Wylie  bends  both  knees)  and  perhaps  ten  years  younger  1 
(Wylie  crooks  his  back  like  a  decrepit  old  man.) 

Wylie.  Oh.  is  he? 

Hawkins.  Perhaps  you  can  assist  me  in  this  little  matter.     Couldn't 


FOUL  PLAY.  2o 

you  get  the  girl  to  give  you  this  Joe  Wylie's  address.     I'll  warrant  he 
would  not  trouble  you  any  more. 

Wylie  {aside).  What's  his  little  game  1  I  never  set  eyes  on  the  beg- 
gar afore  ' 

Hawkins.  You  see,  I  am  a  detective  officer. 

Wtlie  (alarmed).  A  detective,  (aloud)  Now,  look  here,  master,  you 
may  be  only  for  getting  me  into  trouble  between  this  Wylie  and  Nancy 
there. 

Hawkins.  He  won't  trouble  you,  I  say.     And  how's  she  to  know  ? 

Wylie.  Let  me  have  your  address  then  1 

Hawkins  (gives  card).  There  it  is.    Hawkins,  Scotland  Yard. 

Wylie.  Thank  'ee.  Well,  you  go  back  to  your  yard  and  wait  there 
till  you  hear  from  me !  (going  b.) 

Hawkins  (l.,  note-book  out).  By  the  way,  I  forget  your  namel 

Wylie.  Walker  !  [Exit  b. 

Hawkins.  All  right,  (writes)  I  like  to  have  things  complete  and  regu- 
lar !  [Exit  l. 
Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  III. — Interior  of  houses,  in  third  grooves.     Candle  burning  on  b. 
table.     Oas  down.     Discovering  Nancy  in  &.  room,  packing  box  n.side. 

Nancy.  Well,  I'm  not  soi  ry  that  Joe  wants  me  to  leave  this  shocking 
old  place,  (rises,  goes  up)  Nothing  but  ugly  house-tops  and  cracked 
chimney-pots  to  be  seen.  And  next  door  to  a  haunted  house,  too  !  (turns 
her  back  to  l.,  seated  at  table)  Full  of  all  kinds  of  strange  noises.  For  all 
Joe  says  I  am  a  fool,  and  that  it  is  the  rats,  I  know  better !  There  is 
something  like  steps  upon  the  floor  every  night.  Well,  I'm  going  away 
to-morrow,  thank  goodness  !  It  makes  me  feel  so  uneasy  though,  late  at 
night. 

Wylie  opens  l.  d.,  and  slowly  enters. 

There  !  just  like  the  sound  of  a  key  in  the  lock  !  (listens.  Wylib  comes 
to  c.)  There  again,  like  steps  across  the  floor !  Oh !  it  ain't  rats !  and 
the  wind  don't  wear  heavy  boots. 

Wylie.  What  did  that  fellow  want  stopping  me  in  the  street  1  The 
place  is  getting  too  warm,  (sits  on  bed)  I  have  written  to  Mr.  Arthur 
Wardlaw  to  come  here  to-night,  and  given  him  the  key  to  get  in. 

Nancy.  There  !  it's  all  quiet  in  there  now.  The  house  is  haunted,  I  am 
sure.  What  a  dreadful  thing  to  be  living  alone !  However,  to-morrow 
I'll  have  Joe  come  not  to  go  away  from  me  again.  How  strange  it  is. 
When  he  was  rich,  I  didn't  care  for  him ;  but  now  that  he  is  poor,  I'd  do 
anything  for  him.  Ah  !  if  I  only  had  ten  thousand  pounds  !  or  even  two 
thousand !  (joyfully)  I'd  pay  all  his  debts !  (knock,  off  l.)  I'd  rig  him 
out  in  new  clothes  !  (knock  off  l.) 

Wylie  (starts  to  his  feet).  Knocking  at  the  door !  and  he  had  the  key  ! 
It's  the  police  !  I  hear  steps  !  I'm  caught  in  a  trap  !  the  bank-notes  will 
be  found  on  me  !  Oh  !  I  must  hide  them,  (runs  about)  Oh,  I  know,  the 
chimbley !  (goes  to  fireplace)  there's  a  biick  loose  to  come  out.  (hides 
roll  of  bills  in  chimney  ;  l.  n.  tried,  then  knock  at  it)  They  are  here  !  But 
that's  all  right. 

( Voice  of  Abthur  l.  d  )  Wylie,  open  !  it  is  I. 

Wylie  (joyfully).  The  guv'nor !  (unlocks  l.  n.  Music,  forte.) 

Enter  Arthur,  l.  V 
Wylie.  What  a  fright  you  gave  me  ! 


26  FOUL   TLAY. 

Nancy.  There  is  speaking  now  !  (takes  up  candle,  goes  to  fireplace,  dis- 
covers roll  of  notes  fallen  through,  while  Wtlib  seats  himself  on  bed,  Aethub 
on  stool*)  Eh !  (knocks  candle  on  floor)  Oh !  bank-notes  !  as  I'm  a  living 
woman !  (counts  bills.) 

Arthur.  The  police  are  on  your  track.  You  must  change  your  resi- 
dence  

Wylie.  I'll  leave  this  to-night.     Hark  !  (Nancy  laughs.) 

Arthur.  What ! 

Wylie.  I  thought  I  heard  something.  There's  all  kinds  of  noises 
about  this  old  place — it  clean  worries  my  life  out. 

Nancy.  Eight  hundred  and  fifty — nine  hundred 

Wylib.  It's  the  money  you  give  me  that  troubles  me.  I  don't  know 
what  to  do  with  it.  If  I  could  only  tell  Nance.  But  I've  thought  of 
fifty  ways  of  showing  it  to  her,  without  hitting  upon  one. 

Arthur.  It  is  here  you  have  the  gold  1 

Wylie.  Yes,  in  the  cellars. 

Arthur.  Are  there  no  fears  that  it  will  be  discovered  by  the  police  1 

Wylie.  No  !  I  got  it  here  by  dark,  and  I  have  it  housed  in  a  place  I 
found  by  accident.  I  was  feeling  about,  when  I  struck  a  part  of  the 
wall  that  sounded  hollow.  I  pushed  it  through  and  found  an  archway 
leading  to  a  flight  of  stairs  I  went  down  them  and  found  an  iron  door, 
with  the  rusty  old  bey  sticking  in  the  lock.  I  opened  that  and  was  in  a 
vault,  low,  dark,  and  damp.  There  I  stowed  away  the  cases.  I  believe 
when  the  tide  of  the  Thames  is  high,  it  overflows  the  place. 

Abthur.  Let  it  stay  there.  My  future  wife  can't,  she  shan't  touch 
an  ounce  of  it. 

Wylie.  That's  worse  than  with  my  money.  Mine  can,  but  she  won't 
touch  it ! 

Nancy  (going  to  table,  laughing).  Two  thousand  pounds  ! 

Wylie  (starts).  Eh  ! 

Arthur.  What? 

Wylie  (rises).  Did  you  speak  1 

Arthur.  1 1  no  !  what ! 

Wylie.  Somebody  said,  "  Two  thousand  pounds."  (goes  about)  It 
sounded  as  if  it  come  from  up  the  chimbley !  (they  whisper  together  and 
exeunt  L.  d..  cautiously.) 

Enter,  r.  d.,  Hawkins. 

Hawkins.  Good  evening ! 

Nancy.  Oh !  I  know  what  you  want ! 

Hawkins.  Do  you  indeed  1 

Nancy.  You  want  Joe  Wylie.  You  come  for  him  for  debt.  You 
shall  be  paid.     Here  is  two  thousand  pounds 

Hawkins.  Two  thousand  pounds  1 

Nancy.  Two  thousand  !  count  it! 

Hawkins.  Thank 'ee  I  will!  and  all  in  fifty  pound  notes!  (Nancy 
smiles  and  nods,  while  Hawkins  refers  to  his  note-book)  The  numbers  run 
from  150  to  190  both  inclusive.  (  puts  up  note-book)  Which  one  of  your 
lovers  gave  you  this  for  your  pretty  face  1 

Nancy.  Oh,  you  won't  believe  me  when  I  tell  you ! 

Hawkins.  I  daresay  not! 

Nancy.  It  cime  down  the  cluiuney  from  the  haunted  house. 

Hawkins.  Oh,  come  now  ! 

*  Nancy.  |  Wvlie.  Akthur. 

O.  L.  c. 


FOUL   PLAY.  27 

Nancy.  Yes!  (explains  in  pantomime,  during  following.') 
Enter,  l.  d.,  Wylie  and  Arthur. 

Wylie.  There  was  no  one. 

Arthur.  It's  agreed  then  that  you  will  write  to  old  Penfold. 

Wylie.  What'll  I  write  1  That  I  did  it  all  and  nobody  else  had  a 
hand  in  1  All  right,  guv'nor.  Here  you  are,  you've  got  the  key,  you'll 
find  the  gold  below,  safe  in  stock,  every  ounce  of  it — I'll  walk  out  an<l 
you'll  be  in  possession. 

Hawkins  (to  Nancy).  The  hand  came  down  the  chimney,  you  say  1 

Nancy.  Yes.  (nods.) 

Arthur.  And  you'll  leave  the  country 

Wylie  The  sooner  the  better. 

Arthur.  At  once  then 

Wylie.  But  I  can  take  Nancy. 

Arthur.  Her  or  another.  (Wylie  to  l.  d.)  Write  out  the  confession 
of  your  guilt  and  give  it  to  Penfold.  I  will  get  you  some  bank  stock 
that  you  can  get  gold  for  at  New  York.     Wait  for  me  here. 

[Exit  L.  D. 

Wylie.  Now  I'll  go  and  get  my  money.  ( to  fireplace.) 

Nancy.  Oh !  there's  something  in  the  chimney  !  Don't  let  it  come 
near  me !  it's  the  ghost !  (Wylie  s  hand  through  the  partition  is  seen  feel- 
ing about.) 

Wylie.  I  am  sure  1  put  it  somewhere  here  ! 

Hawkins  (puts  one  of  pair  of  handcuffs  on  Nancy.)  Don't  be  afraid  ! 

Nancy.  Oh,  what  is  this  1 

Hawkins.  Handcuff.     All  safe.   (p(s  Wtlie's  hand  in  other  cuff.) 

Wylie.  Oh  !  what's  that !  [Exit  Hawkins,  r.  d. 

Nancy.  Oh  !  (struggle,  bricks  falP  Eh  !  oh,  Joe  !  is  that  you  1 

Wylle.  Nancy ! 

Nancy.  It's  Hawkins !  he  has  chained  us  together,  and  has  gone 
around. 

Wylie.  Hawkins  !  The  cliimbley's  old,  the  bricks  are  loose  !  pull  'em 
out  on  your  side,  (they  clear  the  door  tn  partition  of  the  built-up  bricks) 
He's  a-coming  up  stairs !  Oh  !  (gets  through,  Nancy  pulls  him  up  to 
table,  picks  up  her  things,  Wylie  sweeps  up  the  bank-bills,  exeunt  r.  d.) 

Hawkins  enters  l.  d.,  pauses,  sees  hole,  passes  through  to  B.  D. 

Scene  closes  in  quick. 

SCENE  IV. — Boom  in  first  grooves.     Gas  up. 

Enter,  l.,  Nancy  and  Wylie,  in  the  handcuffs  as  in  last  scene. 

Nancy.  Oh  !  I  thought  I  should  have  died! 

Wylie.  It's  nearly  killed  me  ! 

Nancy.  I  am  ready  to  drop.  Support  me.  Put  your  arms  around 
me. 

Wylie.  It  can't  be  done,  (comic  business  throughout  with  each  forgetting 
the  handcuffs  and  putting  up  their  hands  too  freely)  When  old  Michael 
comes  in,  he'll  got.  a  file  aud  separate  us.  (knock  off  i.)  Here  he  is  ! 

Nancy.  No,  he  would  have  his  key. 

Wylie.  Then  it's  Hawkins  !  (business  of  dragging  Nancy  about  in 
fright.) 

Nancy.  Here's  a  closet. 


28  FOUL  PLAY. 

Wylie.  Hide  me  away !  put  me  anywhere !  (Nancy  and  he  exeunt 
d.  in  F.) 

{Voice  of  Servant,  l.)  This  way  if  you  please,  miss,  (shows  i»HEi.«jr 
in  bonnet  and  lace  nwntte,  L.) 

Helen.  So  this  is  Mr.  Penfold  s  retreat,  {to  k.)  These  are  his  books. 

Servant.  The  old  gentleman  won't  let  anybody  dust  them  but  his 
ownself,  miss,  (l.) 

Helen  (r).  Surely  this  is  Robert's  portrait — taken  when  he  was 
young,  but  jet  so  like. 

Enter,  l.,  Michael  Penfold.     Servant  whispers  to  him. 

Penfold.  A  lady  to  see  me.     It  must  be  Nancy.  [Exit  Servant,  l. 

Helen.  Don't  you  know  me  1    Miss  Rolleston. 

Pen.  Mr.  Arthur's  intended.     I  hope  nothing  has  gone  wrong  1 

Helen  {very  smilingly  througlwut).  No !  but  an  old  wrong  will  be 
righted.  You  know  how  I  was  saved  and  sheltered  while  cast  away  on 
that  desert  island  % 

Pen.  Oh,  yes,  we  heard  all  about  it  in  the  office. 

Helen.  But  what  you  did  not  hear  was  that  the  brave  man  who  ex- 
posed his  life  for  me  so  many  times,  was  your  son. 

Pen.  My  son  !  (Helen  helps  him  to  seat  up  c.) 

Helen.  Yes,  your  son.  He  sent  me  home  to  prepare  you  for  his  com- 
ing, to  remove  the  stain  upon  his  name,  to  labor  for  him  as  a  loving 
wife  should  !  for  he  loves  me,  aud  I  love  him  !  and,  in  token,  here  is 
what  he  left  on  my  lips  for  you!  (kisses  Penfold,  he  takes  her  hands 
wonderingly.) 

Pen.  Really,  Miss  Helen  !  my  son  !     I  will  find  my  son  again  ! 

Helen.  And  a  daughter  ! 

Pen.  But  you  are  my  young  master's  promised  1 

Helen.  Never  more.  .Your  son  has  borne  the  shame  that  should  have 
been  his  too  long  not  to  deserve  the  joy  that  he  hoped  for,  if  one. 

Pen.  How  is  this  ? 

Helen.  Not  his  only  misdeed.  It  was  by  his  orders  that  the  Proser- 
pine was  destroyed  by  her  mate  Joseph  Wylie. 

Pen.  Wylie  did  this  ?  Poor  Nancy  !  she  has  been  good  to  me,  and  I 
am  sorry  for  her.     She  loved  him,  and  this  will  break  her  heart. 

Helen.  When  she  learns  what  a  wretch  he  is  ? 

Pen.  Nancy  is  but  a  poor  ignorant  girl,  and  when  she  finds  the  man 
that  she  loves  accused,  she  will  stick  all  the  closer  to  him  ! 

Helen.  I  know  her  better  than  you,  and  I  am  confident  that  she  will 
cast  him  off"  forever. 

Enter,  d.  in  f.,  Nancy,  dragging  Wylie,  still  in  handcuffs. 

Nancy.  You  are  right,  miss.  I  will  n  ver  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  good-for-nothing  fellow  any  more  !  (r.  c.) 

Pen.  Wylie  !  (Helen  comes  to  l.  of  Penfold,  seated.) 

Nancy.  Hang  your  head  !  (jerk  to  handcuff )  I'm  more  ashamed  than 
ever  to  be  connected  with  you.  I  hope  they'll  have  no  mercy  on  you, 
that  I  do  !     That's  what  you  got  the  money  for,  is  it  ?  speak  out  ! 

Wylie.  I  am  a  speaking  out. 

Nancy.  Weill 

Wylie  (head  hanging).  Well,  yes,  I  scuttled  the  ship  1 

All    Oh! 

Helen.  The  wretch,  Wardlaw  ! 

Wylie.  Come  now,  miss,  don't  be  too  haul  upon  Mr.  Arthur.! He  did 


FOUL  PLAY.  29 

it,  sure  enough,  by  ray  hands,  but  he  did  it  all  out  of  love  for  you,  as  I 
did  it  all  along  of  Nance  here! 

Nancy.  No  !  you're  not  to  bring  me  inio  your  villainy  ! 

Wylie.  Now,  look  a'  here,  miss  What's  done  can't  1>j  undone.  Mr. 
Arthur  has  behaved  very  well  to  me,  and  if  so  be  as  you're  going  to  haul 
me  up  before  the  court  about  it,  I'll  swallow  all  I've  said  agin  him,  every 
word  on  it !  Depend  upon  it,  it's  much  better  to  hush  it  up  atween  your- 
selves. 

Helen.  As  long  as  Robert  Penfold's  innocence  is  made  manifest  to 
all  the  world,  I  don't  care  what  becomes  of  Arthur  Wardlaw !  {con- 
temptuously') As  for  you,  Mr.  Wylie,  I  forgive  you  truly  ! 

Wylie.  Oh,  miss  ! 

Nancy.  Down  on  your  knees !  and  thank  Miss  Helen  for  forgiving 
you  !  {pulls  Wylie  down  on  his  knees.) 

Wylie.  And  I  won't  get  up  from  here  unless  you  forgive  me,  too. 
You  can't  get  away  till  I  get  up,  so  forgive  me  (Nancy  nods)  There ! 
{rises)  Get  me  a  file,  Michael,  till  we  get  out  of  these  things. 

Pen.  I'll  go  for  one.  [Exit  l.  d.,  with  Helen. 

Wylie.  So  you  have  forgiven  me,  Nance 

Nancy.  No.  I  never 

Wylie.  Why,  only  for  you  I  wo  i'rfn't  have  made  a  clean  breast  of  the 
thing 

Nancy.  Oh  !  am  I  to  be  the  br'be  for  your  goodness  1 

Wylie.  Any  way  as  long  as  I  get  you ! 

Nancy.  I'll  not ! 

Wylie.  Just  this  time ! 

Nancy.  Yes,  then  !  But  I'll  keep  this  {lifts  handcuffed  left  hand) 
hanging  over  your  head  all  your  life  !  And  now  yon  know  what  you'll 
have  when  you  marry  me  !  [Exit  l.,  with  Wylie. 

Servant  enters  l.,  crosses  and  exit  K.,  removing  chair. 

Scene  changes  to 

SCENE  V. — Cellars  in  third  grooves.  Gas  down.  Very  dark.  Lights  in 
house  down,  three-quarter  turn.  Music,  tremolo  on  bass  notes,  through- 
out. Light  seen  through  cracks  in  l.  d.  Then  enter  Arthur,  withcandle, 
l.  d.  He  comes  down  c,  then  goes  to  r.,  then  to  c,  holding  the  candle  up 
high,  etc.  See  to  l.  d.,  left  open  by  him,  to  be  drawn  nearly  shut  by  in- 
visible wire  during  following. 

Arthur.  Ah  !  good  !  here  are  all  the  cases.  What  a  dismal  place  ! 
It  strikes  cold  to  my  very  heart.  Oh  !  {in  great  horror)  Merciful  Heaven ! 
{rushes  to  L.  D.,  which  has  closed,  and  opens  it,  leans  on  it,  exhausted)  If  that 
door  had  closed,  with  the  key  on  the  out-ide,  no  one  would  have  heard 
me,  and  I  would  have  been  buried  alive  {leav/s  the  door  open  and  comes  to 
c.  again)  amid  this  gold  !  It  would  have  seemed  retribution  !  (wipes  hit 
forehead  with  trembling  hand)  Footsteps  above  !  {calls  l.  d.)  Wylie  !  is  it 
you  1    I  am  here  ! 

Enter,  l.  d.,  Wylie. 

Have  you  seen  old  Penfold'?  {candle  up  c.) 

Wylie  {at  c.  on  Arthur's  l.).  Yes,  I  told  him  all. 

Arthur.  You  told  him — you  did  not  put  it  in  writing  !  What  possessed 
you  to  do  that  7 

Wylie.  I  thought  you  might  have  found  a  new  scheme  by  this  time. 
(to  r.  of  Arthur.) 


30  FOUL  PLAY- 

Arthur.  What  do  you  mean1? 

Wylie.  I  don't  know,  (change  of  manner  to  bolder  one)  Look  here, 
guv'nor,  it's  all  up.  I've  made  a  clean  breast  of  it !  It's  what  we  both 
ought  to  have  done  long  ago. 

Arthur.  The  reason  is,  you  do  not  want  to  go  abroad. 

Wylie.  The  reason  is  I  want  to  sheer  off  from  what  we're  running  on. 
If  we  are  took,  it  will  be  penal  servitude.  Ugh  !  There's  only  one°way 
out  of  it.  Let  'em  know  all.  Get  it  off  your  stomach,  guv'nor — you'll  be 
the  better  for  it,  depend  upon  it !     You  will,  you  will ! 

Arthur.  So  your  mind's  made  up.  Ruined  !  (sees  l.  v.)  Ah  !  (in  sud- 
den joy.) 

Wylie.  I  say,  guv'nor,  don't  take  on  like  this  here !  don't !  be  a  mau  ! 
Do  the  right  thing.     Give  up  the  girl ! 

Arthur.  Never !  (walks  up  and  down  nervously)  Never  !  (in  an  implor- 
ing tone)  But  I  say,  you  don't  mean  that  you  will  not  go  abroad  1 

Wylib.  Don't  ask  me  again  to  go,  guv'nor.  Don't  cut  up  rough !  I 
can't! 

Arthur.  Well,  you  want  to  make  me  confess  whether  I  will  or.  no ! 
Be  it  so. 

Wylie.  I  knew  you'd  come  round  to  my  way  of  thinking,  guv'nor. 

Arthur.  Hark ! 

Wylie.  What? 

Arthur.  Footsteps  above  !  (takes  up  candle.) 

Wylie.  It  can't  be ! 

Arthur.  Hush  !  wait,  I  tell  you !  [Exit  l.  d.,  cautiously,  but  shuts  it  and 
locks  it  after  him.) 

Wylie  (unconcerned).  What's  that  1  What  did  I  hear  ?  He's  shui  the 
door  behind  him.  What  did  he  do  that  for  1  (suddenly  hoarse  scream) 
Ah !  (rushes  to  l.  d.)  villain  !  cold-blooded  murderous  villain  !  (staggers 
to  c.)  He  has  left  me  here  to  die.  Buried  amidst  this  gold,  I  shall  die 
of  hunger — of  hunger  like  the  men  in  the  boat  on  the  ocean,  (hides  his 
face  with  hands  a  moment)  No  one  knows  that  I  am  here,  I  shall  die  all 
alone,  alone  !  (falls  on  box  c,  facing  r.)  alone!  (bows  his  head.) 

Hawkins  (rises,  on  up  side  of  boxes  r.  c,  turns  dark  lantern  on  Wylib). 
Not  quite  alone,  Mr.  Wylie. 

Wylie.  Ah !  Hawkins !  (light  of  lantern  on  both.) 

quick  curtain. 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE.— Same  as  Scene  first,  Act  III.      Gas  up. 
Discover  Valet,  r.,  Wardlaw,  l.,  by   table,  r.  side  of  it,  looking  at  open 

book.       ROLLESTON  Up  C. 

Wardlaw.  Has  Mr.  Arthur  returned  yet  1 

Valet.  Not  yet,  sir. 

Ward.  Tell  him  I  wish  to  speak  with  him  the  instant  he  comes  in. 

Valet.  Very  well,  sir.  [Exit  r.  d. 

Ward.  These  false  entries  terminate  about  one  year  ago.  They  are 
well  done — calculated  to  deceive  any  one  of  less  practised  eye  than  me. 
Yet  no  one  but  my  sou  and  Mr.  Penfold  have  access  to  these  books. 


FOUL   PLAY.  31 

Rolles.  {meaningly  )  The  younger  Tenfold  is  a  convict. 

Ward.  I  did  not  think  of  that.  The  son  was  a  forger — the  father  may 
be  as  bad  as  the  son.  No !  I  can't  believe  it.  Where  is  Arthur  1  his 
return  will  put  an  end  to  this  uncertainty. 

Enter  Valet,  b.  d. 
Well,  is  he  here  1 
Valet.  No,  sir.     A  strange  gentleman  wishes  to  speak  with  you. 
Ward.  Show  him  in.  (Valet  botvs,  opens  r.  d.) 

Enter,  R.  d.,  Robert  Penfold,  Imt  in  hand. 

Robert  (to  Rolleston).  A  passing  ship  touched  at  the  island,  I  could 
not  resist  the  temptation.   I  beg  you  to  let  me  see  her !  [  Exit  Valet,  r.  d. 

Rolles.  Robert  Penfold ! 

Robert.  I  could  not  remain  longer.  Let  me  see  her — let  me  at  least 
breathe  the  same  air  as  she  ! 

Ward.  Of  whom  are  you  speaking,  sir1? 

Rolles.  (sternly).  Of  my  daughter. 

Ward.  Of  my  son's  bride  1 

Robert.  And  my  affianced  wife. 

Rolles.  (sternly).  Mr.  Penfold,  is  this  the  way  you  keep  your  parole  1 
Leave  the  house  on  the  instant ! 

Ward.  No  !  I  forbid  you  to  depart.  If  you  attempt  to  escape  I  will 
call  my  servants  to  arrest  you.     Go  in  there.  (  points  r.  d.) 

Robert.  I  await  your  orders,  (to  Rolleston,  tenderly)  and  obey  yours. 
(to  r.  d.,  bowing.) 

Valet  (at  r.  d.).  This  way,  sir.  [Exit,  with  Robert,  r.  d. 

Ward,  (aside).  Robert  Penfold  here,  and  at  such  a  time.  It  is  enough 
to  distract  me. 

Enter,  l.  c.  e  ,  Helen  and  Michael  Penfold,  coming  down  l. 

Penfold.  (to  Helen).  My  old  master !  I  have  not  the  heart  to  inform 
him. 

Helen.  Courage !  I  beg  you  to  be  firm  !  (with  Rolleston  up  c.) 

Ward.  Michael,  come  here.  (Penfold  l.  side  of  l.  c.  table)  You  have 
been  in  our  house  for  years,  and,  I  believe,  have  been  faithful  to  me  and 
mine! 

Pen.  I  have  tried  to  be  so,  sir. 

Ward.  You  see  these  books.     They  were  kept  by  you  1 

Pen.  Of  course,  sir. 

Ward.  You  are  responsible  for  their  condition  1 

Pen.  Yes,  sir,  yes  ! 

Ward,  (pointing  on  book).  Do  you  see  this  entry  1  (Penfold  puts  on 
his  spectacles,  agitated)  Look  well,  you  see  it  1  Fraudulent,  is  it  notl  Is 
it  your  writing  1     Don't  tremble,  but  speak  ! 

Pen.  This  is — is  not  my  handwriting — but  it  is  very  like — so  is  this — 
why  !  the  whole  page  is  a  forgery  ! 

Ward.  Ah  !  (emotion.) 

Enter,  r.  d.,  Arthur. 

Arthur.  I  have  not  kept  any  one  waiting!  Ah,  Sir  Edward. 

Ward.  Arthur,  a  serious  discovery  has  been  made.     Our  books  have 

been  tampered  with 

Arthur.  Our  books  wrong  1  impossible.     The  balances  are  all  right  ! 


32  FOUL  PLAY. 

Ward.  Now,  but  not  a  year  ago.  Arthur,  give  me  your  word  that  it 
is  not  you  who  have  made  our  hooks  a  mass  of  frauds. 

Arthur.  You  suspect  me — I  don't  understand 

Helen  {to  Arthur).  Spare  your  father  the  whole  of  the  pain.  Your 
only  hope  is  in  that. 

Pen.  Too  late  !     Wylie  has  confessed. 

Arthur.  Wylie  !     What  has  he  confessed,  pray  7 

Pen.  That  he  destroyed  the  Proserpine  by  your  orders! 

Arthur.  He  is  capable  of  it. 

Helen  {to  Arthur).  The  net  is  drawing  closer  around  you.  Fly  while 
you  may ! 

Arthur  {shakes  her  off).  The  fellow  accuses  me.  Where  is  he  1  why 
not  produce  him  1 

{  Voice  of  Wylie).  Here  he  is  ! 

Wylie  enters  d.  in  f.,  followed  closely  by  Nancy  and  Hawkins.* 

Arthur.  Wylie,  here  ?  (r.) 

Wylie  {coming  down  c).  Wylie,  whom  you  confined  in  the  vaults  with 
the  gold,  safe  as  you  thought !  dead,  as  you  reckoned  ! 

Hawkins.  But  you  reckoned  without  me,  sir  ! 

Arthur.  What  means  the  man  1  {crosses  to  l.  c.) 

Wylie.  Why,  you  are  never  going  to  deny  that  you  wanted  me  to  take 
all  the  guilt  of  scuttling  the  Proserpine  on  myself,  and  that  you  shut  me 
up  when  you  fouud  I  wouldn't  do  itl 

Arthur.  When  was  all  this  1 

Wylie.  Why,  last  night. 

Arthur.  Last  night  I  met  you  1  {smiling)  You  must  be  mad ! 

Wylie.  And  locked  me  in  the  vaults 

Arthur    You  are  dreaming. 

Hawkins.  No,  he's  not,  sir. 

Wylie  {to  Hawkins).  You  know  what  I  say  is  true  1 

Hawkins.  Of  course,  I  do.  I  was  there  all  the  time,  heard  every  word 
between  you.    1  told  you,  sir,  I'd  do  the  thing  complete  and  regular ! 

Arthur.  You  were  there !  Oh,  I  see  it  all  now.  They  think  they 
will  get  clear  if  they  can  succeed  in  tarnishing  our  firm  !  {sits.) 

Wylie.  Well,  I  thought  I  was  as  hig  a  rascal  as  was  easily  come  up 
with  in  a  day's  sail,  but  after  this,  I  feel  like  an  honest  man  beside  you. 

Hawkins.  Come,  come,  Mr.  Wylie,  the  law  don't  allow  people  to  call 
names,  {gets  Wylie  to  go  up  c.  a  little  with  him.) 

Ward.  Arthur,  my  son,  speak  !     What  does  this  mean  7 

Arthur.  It  means  that  they  are  all  in  a  conspiracy  to  ruin  me. 

Helen.  Arthur,  for  Heaven's  sake 

Hawkins  {comes  down).  Why,  look  here,  sir.  The  matter's  come  to  an 
end.  The  money  will  he  returned  and  there  won't  be  nobody  to  com- 
plain. Arrange  the  rest  in  the  family  among  yourselves.  I  am  not 
bound  to  go  any  further.     It  is  none  of  my  business. 

Enter,  r.  d.,  Robert  Penfold. 

Robert.  But  it  is  mine  ! 

Arthur  {rises).  His!  {falls  back  in  seat  with  crazy  laugh.  He  is  mad 
from  this  to  end)  Ha,  ha  ! 

♦Rolleston.  *Helen.  *Hawkin8.  *Wylie.  *Nanct. 

*Akthub.  *Wardlaw.  *Penfold. 


FOUL  PLAY.  33 

Robert.  My  good  name  must  be  placed  beyond  reproach. 

Ward,  (to  Arthur,  who  hides  his  face  on  arms  on  table,  laughing  during  the 
following.}  What  means  this  1  Am  I  to  believe  that  your  life  has  been 
one  pack  of  lies  1  one  tissue  of  deceit  1  Are  you  really  my  son  1  or  are 
you  some  base  impostor  1     Tell  them  all  that  they  have  lied. 

Arthur.  Ha.  ha ! 

Ward.  You  are  mocking  me.  Unfortunate  boy,  you  are  nothing  to 
me  henceforth.  (Penfold  tries  to  console  him,  l.) 

Arthur  (rises,  wildly).  Save  her  !  oh  never  mind  the  gold,  but  save 
my  love ! 

Nancy.  He  does  not  know  what  he  is  saying  !  (comes  beside  Arthur, 
but  he  puts  her  hands  away.) 

Arthur.  I'll  not  touch  an  ounce  of  it — there  is  blood  on  it  !  (change 
of  manner  to  sorrow)  He  is  alone  with  her  on  the  island  !  Oh,  justice  of 
Heaven  !  I  robbed  him  of  his  good  name,  and  he  robs  me  of  my  love. 

Helen.  He  confesses  it  all. 

Nancy.  Don't  touch  him  ;  how  wild  is  his  looks.. 

Arthur  (fiercely).  I  will  go  in.  Burst  the  door  in,  or  he  will  die  !  I 
will  save  him,  I  wiU  save  him  ! 

Falls  and  dies.  Wylie,  who  had  been  revengeful,  looks  pitifully  on  him,  kneel- 
ing on  one  knee.  Nancy  looks  down  on  him.  Rolleston  looks  at 
Helen.  Helen  and  Robert,  embracing,  look  upward.  Wardlaw 
leans  his  head  on  Penfold's  shoulder.    Music. 

♦Hawkins. 
♦Rolleston. 
♦Robert.  ♦Helen.  ♦Wylie.  ♦Nancy.  ♦Ward.  ♦Penfold. 
♦Arthur. 

r.  «.  C.  Ii.  0. 


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GREEN   ROOM  EDITION  OF 
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ALABAMA 

A    DRAMA     IN    FOUR    ACTS. 

BY 

AUGUSTUS    THOMAS, 

Member  of  the  American  Dramatists'  Club. 

Author  of  "  The  Burglar,"    "In   Missouri,"    "  The  Hoosier  Doctor*' 

"A  Man  of  the  World,"  "  The  Capitol,-'  "A  Proper  Impropriety," 

"  That  Overcoat^'  "  The  Man  Up  Stairs,"  "  Afte-thoughts,"  Etc. 


THE  BEST  AMERICAN  PLAY. 


Eight  male,  four  female  characters.    Full  directions  and  business  for 
st  age  as  originally  produced  by  C  :  Author  at  the  Madison  Square  Theatre. 

Time  of  Playing  :   Two  and  one-half  hours. 
Costumes:  Modern, 


M  Its  character,  its  atmosphere,  its  sentiment,  Its  humor,  are  all  pecu- 
liarly American  .  .  .  The  best  English  play  of  these  times  could  not  so 
surely  touch  the  hearts  of  American  theatregoers.  It  will  be  as  popular 
in  the  South  as  in  the  North,  and  the  Western  people  will  like  it  too. 

— New  York  Times. 

"There  is  not  one  In  the  twrtve  characters  of  the  play  that  is  not 
distinctly  worth  studying."  — New  York  World. 

"  It  is  a  good  play,  to  begin  with.  Next,  it  is  a  play  by  an  American ; 
and  last,  it  is  a  play  about  Americans."  —New  York  Herald. 


Price,  50  Cents. 


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TRELAWNY    OF 
THE  WELLS 

BY 

ARTHUR   W.   PINERO 

Author  of  "The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt,"  "The  Profligate" 
Etc.,  Etc. 


The  Great  Success  of  the  Past  Theatrical  Season 
in  New  York 


A  comedy  in  four  acts  for  ten  male  and  eight  female 
characters.  For  many  years  Mr.  Pinero  has  been  ac- 
knowledged the  first  English-speaking  dramatic  author, 
and  he  is  one  of  the  very  few  dramatists  whose  plays  are 
as  valuable  for  their  literary  qualities  as  their  dramatic 
worth.  

Costumes  of  the  early  sixties 
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THE  BENEFIT 
OF  THE  DOUBT. 

BY 

ARTHUR  W.  PINERO, 

Author  of"  The  Princess  and  the  Butterfly /'  "  The  Second 

Mrs.  Tangueray"  "  Trelawney  of  the  Wells?  Etc.,  Etc. 


One  of  the  brightest  plays  ever  written,  by  one  of 
the  greatest  of  living  playwrights. 


A  Society  Comedy  In  three  acts  for  six  female  anc  nine 
male  characters,  as  produced  at  the  Comedy  Theatre, 
London.  The  scenes  consist  of  two  interiors  easily  arranged. 
An  excellent  play  for  either  amateur  or  professional  per- 
formance.   

Costumes  of  the  present  day. 
ACTING  Time:  Two  and  one-half  hours. 


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Sent  postpaid  to  any  address  on  receipt  of  price. 

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The  CLUB  FRIEND 


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BY 


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A  uthor  of  "  A  Possible  Case"  "  Imagination"  "  A    House  of  Cards" 

"  The  Passing  Show"    Co-author  of  "  The  Senator" 

Adapter  of  "  The  Tivo  Escutcheons"  Etc. 


A  bright,  vivacious  society  comedy  in  three  acts,  for 
six  male  and  five  female  characters. 


Costumes  of  the  present  day.  Acting  Time:  Two  hours. 


"  Mr.  Rosenfeld  has  handled  his  subject  with  rare  skill,  and  made  a 
play  which  in  many  respects  is  far  removed  from  the  conventional  modern 
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dialogue,  and  he  has  rarely  equalled  his  text  in  this  piece.  It  is  a  delight- 
ful comedy,  clean  and  bright,  and  should  find  favor  with  intelligent  audi- 
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"  The  dialogue  is  deliciously  witty.  .  .  An  abundance  of  merry  sit- 
uations and  clever  contrasts  of  mirth  and  pathos  hold  the  attention  of  the 
audience." — The  Boston  Daily  Globe. 


Price,  50  Cents. 


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NEW  COMEDIES 


The  Rich   Miss  Poor 

A  PLAY  IN  ONE  ACT 

By  CHARLES   TOWNSENr 

Author  of  fifty  successful  plays 


A  charming  comedietta  of  modern  life  and  especially  adaptable  io 
the  amateur  stage. 

Characters  :    Three  male,  two  female. 
Scene:    Lawyer's  Office. 
Acting  Time  :   Twenty  minutes. 


Price,  15  Cents 


Balm  of  Gilead 

AN   ORIGINAL    COMEDY   IN   ONE  ACT 

By  EDWARD  BOLTWOOD 


A  delightful  play  full  of  new  and  clever  situations  and    Viiliant 

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The  Littlest  Girl 

A    ONE- ACT  PLAY 

By   ROBERT   HILLIARD 

Taken  from  the  story   "Her  First  Appearance" 


Played  by  Mr.  Hilliard  for  three  seasons  in  the  leading  theatres 
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Characters  :    Three  male,  one  female. 
Scene  :    A  bachelor  apartment. 
Acting  Time  :    Twenty  minutes. 


Price,  25  Cents 


The  Orator  of  Zapata  City 

A    ONE- ACT  PLA  Y 

By   RICHARD   HARDING   DAVIS 

Taken  from  his  story  of  the  same  title. 


This  play  was  written  for  Mr.  E.  H.  Sothern,  and  by  whose  per- 
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offers  exceptional  opportunities  for  straight  and  character  acting. 

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Scene  :    A  western  court-room. 
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Price,  25  Cents 


TJAZC)    ATFMS  n^  A  yc_ 


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i! 


,    UC  SOUTHERN 

HAGEMAN'S  MAI 


By  MAURICE  H .,„,  .,,,1 , 

A     000  512  641 

Author  of  "What  Became  of  Parker,"  "Prof.  Robinson,"  "ttecwn,    ^  I ^ 

Mulcahy,"  "The  First  Kiss,"  "By  Telephone,"  "To  Rent,"  eta. 

Price,  25  cents. 

The  importance  of  an  effective  make-up  is  becoming  more  apparent  to 
the  professional  actor  every  year,  but  hitherto  there  has  been  no  book  on  the 
subject  describing  the  modern  methods  and  at  the  same  time  covering  all 
branches  of  the  art.  This  want  has  now  been  filled.  Mr  Hageman  has  had 
an  e\perience  of  twenty  years  as  actorandstage-manager.andhis  well-known 
liteiary  ability  has  enabled  Mm  to  put  the  knowledge  so  gained  into  shape 
to  be  of  use  to  others.  The  book  is  an  encyclopaedia  of  the  art  of  making  up. 
Every  branch  of  the  subject  is  exhaustively  treated,  and  few  questions  can 
be  asked  by  professional  or  amateur  that  cannot  be  answered  by  this  admira- 
ble hand-book.  It  is  not  only  the  best  make-up  book  ever  published,  but  it 
is  not  likely  to  be  superseded  by  any  other.  It  is  absolutely  indispensable 
to  every  ambitious  actor. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I.    General  Remarks. 

Chapter  II.     Crease-Paints,  their  origin,  components  and  use. 

Chapter  III.  The  Make-up  Box.  Grease-Paints,  Mirrors,  Face  Powder  and 
Tuff,  Exora  Cream,  Rouge,  Liquid  Color,  Grenadine,  Blue  for  the  Eyelids, 
Brilliantine  for  the  Hair,  Nose  Putty,  Wig  Paste,  Mascaro,  Crape  Hair, 
Spirit  Gum,  Scissors,  Artists'  Stomps,  Cold  Cream,  Cocoa  Butter,  Recipes  for 
Cold  Cream. 

Chapter  IV.  Preliminaries  before  Making  up;  the  Straight  Make-up 
and  how  to  remove  it. 

Chapter  V.  Remarks  to  Ladies.  Liquid  Creams,  Rouge,  Lips,  Eyebrows, 
Eyelashes,  Character  Roles,  Jewelry,  Removing  Make-up. 

Chapter  VI.  Juveniles.  Straight  Juvenile  Make-up,  Sbciety  Men, 
Young  Men  in  111  Health,  with  Red  Wigs,  Rococo  Make-up,  Hands,  Wrists, 
Cheeks,  etc. 

Chapter  VII.  Adults,  Middle  Aged,  and  Old  Men.  Ordinary  Type  of 
Manhood,  Lining  Colors,  Wrinkles,  Rouge,  Sickly  and  Healthy  Old  Age, 
Ruddy  Complexions. 

Chapter  VIII.  Comedy  and  Character  Make-ups.  Comedy  Effects, 
Wigs,  Heards,  Eyebrows,  Noses,  Lips,  Pallor  of  Death. 

Chapter  IX.  1  he  Human  Features.  The  Mouth  and  Lips,  the  Eyes  and 
Eyelids,  the  Nose,  the  Chin,  the  Ear,  the  Teeth. 

Chapter  X.    Other  Exposed  Parts  of  the  Human  Anatomy. 

Chapter  XI.  Wigs,  Beards,  Moustaches,  and  Eyebrows.  Choosing 
a  Wig,  Powdering  the  Hair,  Dimensions  for  Wigs,  Wig  Bands,  Bald  Wigs, 
Ladies'  Wigs,  Beards  on  Wire,  on  Gauze,  Crape  Hair,  Wool,  Beards  for 
Tramps,  Moustaches,  Eyebrows. 

Chapter  XII.  Distinctive  and  Traditional  Characteristics.  North 
American  Indians,  New  England  Farmers,  Hoosiers,  Southerners,  Politicians. 
Cowboys,  Miners,  Quakers,  Tramps,  Creoles,  Mulatoes,  Quadroons,  Octo- 
roons, Isegroes,  Soldiers  during  War,  Soldiers  during  Peace,  Scouts,  Path- 
finders, Puritans,  Early  Dutch  Settlers,  Englishmen,  Scotchmen,  Irishmen, 
Frenchmen,  Italians,  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  South  Americans,  Scandina- 
vians, Germans,  Hollanders,  Hungarians,  Gipsies,  Russians,  Turks,  Arabs. 
Moors,  Cafiirs,  Abyssinians,  Hindoos,  Malays,  Chinese,  Japanese,  Clowns  and 
Statuary,  Hebrews,  Drunkards,  Lunatics,  Idiots,  Misers,  Rogues. 

Address  Orders  to 
THE  DRAMATIC  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS. 


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We  can  supply  any  play  or  book  pub- 
lished. We  have  issued  a  144-page  catalogue 
of  the  best  1500  plays  and  entertainment  books 
published  in  the  U.  S.  and  England.  It  con- 
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costumes,  etc.  This  catalogue  will  be  Univei 
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